Shattered
by Starway Man
Summary: Xander leaves Sunnydale shortly before Graduation, with the Order of Taraka hot on his heels. Five years later, he gets sent back to the Hellmouth to help prevent the end of all the worlds, everywhere; sometimes, you really can go home again. COMPLETE
1. Actions Have Consequences

**Date written**: Tue 13 Mar 2012

**Author**: Starway Man

**E-mail**: theop at hotkey dot net dot au

**Disclaimer**: The Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel characters are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Sandollar, Kuzui, Fox, WB and UPN (as they then were); I don't own 'em, and I never will. Some of the text is from the various episodes of the show(s), so those parts of the story don't belong to me, either. This fanfic uses part of the plot from Star Trek: Voyager, episode #157 to be precise, which was written by Mike Sussman and Michael Taylor. Anything else you recognize belongs to their owners in question. This work is meant merely for enjoyment, and no profit is being made off of it.

**Rating**: Overall R, with mostly PG-13 parts.

**Symbols**: " " denotes speech, ( _italics_ ) specifies thoughts, and # # indicates phone voice.

**Warnings**: There is some violence, bad language, character death and mention of sexual situations in this fanfic.

**Classification**: Alternate Universe, Action, Angst, Romance

**Author Notes**: This story is something I've been working on, on and off, for something close to a year. It originally started out on a very simple premise: 'What would it be like if the Scooby Gang had had a ten-year high school reunion in Sunnydale?' Of course, since Sunnydale became a crater in 2003 that meant the events of season 7 for starters would have to be different, but to my mind that would not be an insurmountable task. But then I realized that ten years was too long a time-span to work with, and so I decided to shorten it to five years. Read on, and you'll eventually learn why...

**Feedback**: Any and all comments will of course be gratefully received and responded to, so please don't be shy about telling me what you think of this story!

**Acknowledgments**: My thanks of course to all my beta readers Mr. Mysterious, Greywizard and Nodakskip for all their help in providing ideas when I needed them, and in getting this story finished!

**Summary**: Xander leaves Sunnydale shortly before Graduation, with the Order of Taraka hot on his heels. Five years later, he gets sent back to the Hellmouth to help prevent the end of all the worlds, everywhere; and he learns that sometimes, you really can go home again.

**Title**: Shattered

* * *

><p>"There's just so much to work through. Trust has to be built again, on both sides...you have to learn if...if we're even the same people we were, if you can fit in each other's lives."<p>

(Tara Maclay, BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER)

"Good. Don't worry. I practiced plenty on Cousin Timmy when we were kids."

(Cordelia Chase, ANGEL)

"Live. Grow Stronger. Fight another day."

(Methos, HIGHLANDER)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter One: Actions Have Consequences<strong>

**Sunnydale High Gymnasium, Sunnydale**

**June 4th, 1999**

Tonight was the night of the Sunnydale High class of 1999 senior Prom.

The senior Prom was traditionally a special occasion, a rite of passage for the high school students who attended it. Thus, the events of this night would play a vital role in the shape of things to come – especially for Buffy the Vampire Slayer. But right now Miss Summers was talking with the love of her life, the ensouled vampire called Angel, as she stared deeply into his eyes.

"I didn't think you'd come," Buffy said to her ex-boyfriend, who had recently broken up with her.

"It's a big night; I didn't want to miss it. It's just tonight, though. It doesn't mean that I..." Angel stumbled to a halt, not sure what else to say.

Buffy nodded, she knew why he had ended things between them yesterday. She didn't agree with his reasons, but if Angel wanted out (even though he still loved her with all his unbeating heart), there was no point pretending it wasn't all over between them. "I know. I mean, I understand."

Angel gestured, "Dance with me?"

Buffy accepted graciously, and let him lead her to the dance floor...when the space-time continuum shuddered, and something completely unexpected happened.

"Xander, are you listening to me?" the young woman (and ex-vengeance demon) known as Anya Jenkins demanded, as she saw her date for tonight staring at Buffy and Angel; who had started dancing together.

"Huh? What?" Alexander 'Xander' Harris dragged his attention back to Anya guiltily.

"You're not even paying the slightest bit of attention to me, are you? You're totally focusing on the Slayer and that sexually desirable, dark-haired vampire she's dancing with," Anya said with undisguised exasperation in her voice.

"Well, gee – I guess maybe after hearing all those stories of you killing and mutilating guys over the last thousand years, that kinda made me wanna focus on something else," Xander replied tactlessly.

"Yes, and that's just typical of you unfaithful males! You always have your eye on what you can't have, instead of what you DO have. It's ridiculous!" Anya said vehemently. "You don't even want to be here with me, do you?" Her eye caught another couple dancing not far away. "I bet you'd rather be dancing with that Cordelia girl instead!"

Stung by the accusation Xander turned his head to see his ex-girlfriend, Cordelia Chase, dancing her handsome, young, English date, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce. He then turned back to his own date and said, "Look, Anya..."

"I mean, you spent how much money on her dress? And I'M your date for tonight, not her!"

( _That's it!_ ) Something abruptly snapped inside Xander's mind, and he quickly dragged Anya off the dance floor. A rather nasty conversation ensued, as Harris started lecturing Anya about how she was always saying that all men were slime – but he did something good for an ex, and needlessly got criticised for it?

"HOW DARE YOU?" Anya exploded and slapped him across the face, hard. She then stormed off in the direction of the punch bowl, as Xander just stood there – listening to the not-so-discreet snickers of his classmates.

( _Screw this,_ ) Harris thought to himself grumpily, as he saw Willow and Oz staring at him in surprise. Not wanting to deal with his best friend and her boyfriend right now, Xander made his way out of the gymnasium without looking back.

( _This is just typical, isn't it?_ ) Xander thought to himself angrily, as he walked through the school hallway. ( _God, I bet things couldn't possibly get worse right now..._ )

"Hey, dorkhead, wait up!"

( _Of course. I just had to taunt Mr. Murphy like that, didn't I?_ ) Xander sighed quietly in resignation, before he slowed to a stop and turned around to wait for his fast-walking ex-girlfriend to catch up to him. "Cordelia? What do you want?"

"To talk to you, of course! I saw what happened with the ex-demon girl just now, practically everyone in the entire gym must have seen it. What the hell did you say to her to get her so upset?" Cordelia demanded to know.

"Nothing. Doesn't matter, anyway," Xander stonewalled at once.

The Chase girl eyed him carefully and, just this once, decided to tactfully change the subject. "Alright, question two it is. Why'd you buy me this dress?"

Caught off-balance, Xander hesitated before replying, "Well, I – you deserved it after what happened regarding your parents, and I..."

"What?" Cordelia demanded, frowning.

"Look, Cordy, despite everything that's happened this year – I don't hate you. And I know I already apologized for it at least sixty or seventy times, but I'm sorry how it all got totally screwed up with Willow-"

"Don't," Cordelia cut him off, placing a hand on her stomach where the scar from that iron bar was an ugly souvenir of that awful night. "Please, just...don't. At least not tonight, okay? Let's talk about something else."

"Like what?" Harris asked.

"Well, I don't know. YOU think of something!"

Xander shrugged. "Can't really think of anything right now. Well, apart from how I hope to hell my parents and my uncle Rory aren't gonna be too sloshed, by the time I get home from this shindig..."

Cordelia then had an idea, as she brought a metal flask out of her purse – one that had some cheap booze in it, courtesy of Mrs. Chase's attempts to cope with the concept of abject poverty and a jailbird husband. "You want a sip?"

Xander immediately declined, and watched as his ex chugged down some of the flask's contents. Cordelia then said giddily, "Wow! Boy, that sure hit the spot!"

"Are you sure you should be drinking that?" Harris asked in concern. He'd been worried that Cordelia might turn to drugs and alcohol ever since her family had lost all its money, and the princess had become an overnight pauper.

"Don't worry," Cordelia said, with a slight slur in her voice. "I can hold my liquor..."

Xander had his doubts about it, but he knew that trying to take the flask away from Cordelia would only result in another girl slapping him in the face tonight. So he kept her company and tried to dissuade his ex from drinking too much booze, albeit with little success.

"Oh, I feel gooood," Cordelia grinned foolishly a short while later. She was almost swaying from side to side, as she staggered down the school corridor. "Wheee, it's like a ride! It's fun!"

"Yeah, but Mr. Hangover will be visiting you tomorrow, so I think it's time we put this somewhere else," Xander said firmly, snatching the flask away from her and quickly placing it in his nearby locker, slamming the door shut.

"HEY! Give that back!" Cordelia said crossly, not to mention drunkenly.

"I will tomorrow, I swear," Harris promised her.

"God, what is with you tonight?" Cordelia demanded, staggering a little as Xander rushed to support her. "You're acting like such a big ol' fuddy-duddy! Like you're Giles junior or something..."

Xander instantly cringed at the comparison to the stuffy and uptight British librarian who used to be Buffy's official Watcher, but all he said to Cordelia as they walked away from his locker was, "I think we should get you some black coffee or something, it'll help you sober up."

"I don't wanna sober up," Cordelia sniped at him. "I want...I want..."

"To lie down? We can go to the library..."

"NO!" Cordelia said vehemently, her voice extremely slurred. "It's my senior Prom, Xander! And I'm..."

"What?"

Without warning, Cordelia burst into tears as she slowed down and finally stopped moving. "It's my senior Prom, and I'M BROKE! After tonight, there's gonna be no more shopping sprees in Los Angeles, no more vacation trips to Aspen...just a dreary, pathetic existence trying to get by as a stripper, or a porno actress – or maybe even a hooker, if things get that desperate-"

"HEY!"

Cordelia was surprised to find Xander grabbing hold of her and giving her a soft shake. "None of that's gonna happen, y'hear me? The Cordelia Chase I know would never let a little thing like losing all her money prevent her from grabbing life by the balls, and squeezing until she clawed her way back to the top where she belongs! Seriously, have you forgotten? You can do anything you want, once you set your mind to it!"

"I can?" the brunette asked uncertainly, her head swaying from side to side.

"Well, how else could the one and only Queen C have dispatched all the pretenders to her throne, for lo these many years?" Xander asked with a slight smile.

"Hey, yeah, you're right! You're absolutely right; I CAN do whatever I want..." Suddenly, her eyes latched onto something familiar and Cordelia haphazardly dragged Xander across the corridor. "And right now, I wanna go in there!"

Xander inadvertently gulped as he saw the utility closet where he and Cordelia used to make out during the early days of their relationship. Given the location, and how intoxicated she was, the young man was able to make an accurate guess about what his former girlfriend's intentions were. "Uh, Cordy, I don't think so..."

"Why not?"

"Well, for one thing, you're totally smashed," Xander said as diplomatically as he could.

"I don't care! It's my damn senior Prom! Like I heard Angel tell Buffy a few minutes ago...it's just for tonight!" Cordelia drunkenly tried to pick up where they'd left off before the rebar, but Xander turned her down – one, because they were here tonight with other people, and two, she really didn't know what she was doing right now.

"Well, is this just a totally Kodak moment or what?"

Xander immediately froze, hearing that scornful female voice. He then turned to see Faith the Vampire Slayer – once ally and friend, now enemy and turncoat – sneering at him with a soulless vampire at her side. "Faith, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Well, that's the thing, stud – I was feeling kinda bored tonight," Faith drawled, before she moved with Slayer speed and held a knife to Cordelia's throat, dragging her away to the side. "So I decided to check out the library, see what I might find. Anyway, I was just about to leave – when you and the Prom Queen show up! Then I started thinking, who better than you to help me out with my boredom problem? 'Cause you've done it before, remember?"

"Xander, what's she talking about?" Cordelia gasped, feeling Faith's knife digging into the soft flesh of her throat.

"Uh-uh-uh, no questions from the stuck-up snob," Faith said merrily, relishing the expression on Xander's face as she said that. "Lemme explain; we're gonna play a little game."

"What kinda game are you talkin' about?" Xander demanded, his tone of voice now arctic in nature.

"Hey, I thought you'd never ask! See, Xander, I know you have this thing about protecting women above and beyond everything else; that whole 'Sir Galahad' white knight complex you got goin'. Doesn't matter that just about all the women in your life can kick ass better than you can; well, apart from the cheerleader here," Faith told him, gripping Cordelia tighter.

"So here's your chance to finally play hero, Harris. You and my boy over there are gonna throw down," Faith gestured with her head to the growling undead not far away. "You win, your girl gets to live. You lose, I'll slit her throat open from ear to ear."

"Oh, c'mon, Faith – you think I don't know how you'll kill Cordelia anyway, even if I do win this little contest?" Xander asked, trying not to panic the way that Miss Chase was doing. "If you want me to play ball, I need something better than just your promise to play fair. 'Cause quite frankly, your word doesn't mean shit to anyone, anymore – except the Mayor, maybe."

Infuriated, Faith nonetheless abruptly let Cordelia go. "Fine, this bitch gets to walk while I watch you die!"

"Cordelia, run!" Xander roared at his former girlfriend, before launching himself at the vampire.

Rushing off to get Buffy and Angel, Cordelia – having sobered up a lot after that knife had almost pierced her jugular – did not have time to see the fight between the vampire and the human begin. But Faith did, and she watched in pleasure as Xander began to get the living crap beaten out of him by his opponent.

Unluckily for Faith, though, Buffy and Angel had started searching for Xander at Willow's behest almost immediately after he had walked away; and so, just a few seconds after the fight began, the blonde Slayer and the former Angelus showed up and ruined all her fun.

( _God damn it,_ ) Faith cursed, as Angel took on her minion – well, the vampire actually worked for the Mayor, but whatever – and Buffy came straight for her. So the brunette Slayer grabbed the bloodied and battered Xander and put the knife to his throat, before the blonde Chosen One could do anything to stop it. "Hey there, B. Enjoying the Prom?"

"Let go of Xander, right now," Buffy growled at her nemesis, as Cordelia finally arrived on the scene again.

There was an explosion of dust, as Angel finally took care of the soulless bloodsucker. Faith noted that, and began backing away towards a nearby window whilst keeping a firm grip on Xander. ( _Gonna have to play this one smart... _)

"Just don't do anything stupid, blondie," the dark Slayer warned her mystical sibling. "You don't want to get your boy here even more damaged than what he already is, now, do you?"

"Buffy, GET HER!" Xander shouted, despite the knife pressing against his carotid.

"You got a death wish or something, Harris?" Faith asked in annoyance, as she continued to drag him along.

"More like wantin' to see how well Slayer healing can cope with a bullet right between your eyes," Xander hissed at her furiously, as he was still pissed at Faith for threatening Cordelia's life just now.

"Them's fightin' words, stud. Y'know what? Now I'm looking forward to our next encounter. Betcha cutting out your heart is gonna be more exciting than the seven minutes we spent in bed together-!" Faith said in a rush, before shoving Xander aside and diving through the school window, the glass shattering and falling to the ground outside as the renegade Slayer made a quick getaway.

"Damn it! She's gone," Buffy cursed, looking out through the window for any sign of Faith, but seeing none.

"Xander, you all right?" Angel asked, as he hauled the co-founding member of the Scooby Gang up off the floor.

"Fine," Harris grunted at the undead guy – someone he had never really liked or trusted when he had the soul, and someone he'd absolutely loathed when Angel had been without one. ( _Just what I need, concern from the friendly neighborhood vampire..._ )

Xander then saw Cordelia staring at him. "Cordy? What's wrong?"

"Is it true? Did you sleep with that, that SKANK?" Miss Chase demanded furiously, the old feelings of anger and betrayal surfacing as she recalled that evening when she and Oz had caught Xander and Willow making out together.

"Yeah, but it was months after we broke up, and Faith tried to kill me not long afterwards," Xander replied, figuring that there was no point in lying about that and he was too battered and bruised to try right now anyway.

Cordelia just glared at him, before turning around and leaving.

"Oh yeah, this is turning into the best Prom night EVER," Xander said sarcastically, heading for the library to clean himself up a little as Buffy and Angel quickly brought up the rear.

* * *

><p><strong>Manners residence, Los Angeles<strong>

**The same time**

The evil lawyer named Holland Manners surveyed the assembled crowd in his basement, and smiled in deep satisfaction as the wine tasting party got underway.

Holland worked for the Los Angeles branch of the widely-known (at least in supernatural circles) law firm called Wolfram & Hart. It was a company staffed mostly by humans but run by a trio of very old and very evil demons known as the Wolf, Ram and Hart. The middle-aged lawyer had long since sold his soul to the so-called Senior Partners – but as demonstrated by the party tonight, the money, the power and the fringe benefits were...not inconsiderable.

"Welcome, everyone," Holland informed the collection of lawyers and other Wolfram & Hart personnel. "Now the Senior Partners have informed me that they are very, very pleased with the work our division has been doing. Things have been progressing nicely in Special Projects, and are even ahead of schedule, I might add. So I would be remiss in not extending well-earned praise to the three members of our team who have made this possible: Lilah Morgan, Lee Mercer and Lindsey McDonald."

Manners lifted up his wineglass and toasted his legal protégés; "To Lilah, Lee and Lindsey."

Everyone drank and some also murmured a soft, "Hear, hear."

Lilah said graciously, "Thank you, Holland." Lindsey and Lee likewise muttered their thank-you's, before Lilah set her empty glass on a passing wine steward's tray.

Holland went on, "Now, it's no secret that our work is but one small element in a much larger, greater plan – a plan which the Senior Partners have been working towards since the end of the Primordial Age, the time of the Old Ones themselves. There will be briefings on the subject matter next week, especially the material concerning the one and only vampire with a soul named Angelus. But for now, everyone, please relax and enjoy yourselves."

The guests started mingling the way people at parties do, sipping their wine and chatting away. But Lilah, who was dressed in a severe business suit tempered only by her mid-thigh length skirt, headed straight for her mentor. "Nice basement, Holland."

"Thank you, Lilah. As a matter of fact, this place was originally a bomb shelter in the Fifties. My wife and I had it converted, as wine has always been my passion," Holland nodded, enjoying another sip of his Château Léoville-Barton 1973.

"Mine has always been serving the interests of the Senior Partners," Lilah said demurely, as Lindsey and Lee joined them.

( _Yes, I'm sure,_ ) Holland thought to himself in amusement as his trio of minions tried to jockey for position and curry his favor. ( _No doubt you'll go far, Lilah my dear, just like your two competitors. Well, if you don't all kill each other first..._ )

* * *

><p><strong>1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale<strong>

**June 5th, 1999**

"I don't believe it. I thought for sure you and Angel would have gotten back together, after he showed up at Prom last night!"

Willow's exclamation did absolutely nothing to soothe Buffy's broken heart, and the Slayer starting sobbing uncontrollably.

"Oh God, Will, it-it feels like I've been gutted like a fish or something," the petite blonde sniffled, in between sobs. The conversation with Angel in the library after Faith had made her getaway had hurt Buffy even worse than the break-up in the sewers the other day.

( _Oops! Oh, no, she's crying! Why did I have to bring up Angel?_ ) Willow silently berated herself, as she scrambled to hand Buffy a tissue and think of a way to distract her friend at the same time. "So...uh..." the redhead started with no real direction in mind, before blurting out the first thing that popped into her head. "Faith! Um...last night, did she say anything about the Mayor's Ascension, o-or anything?"

"No. Least not to me, and Xander didn't mention anything, either," Buffy replied shakily, as she glanced up at Willow and then looked away to hide her breakdown. It didn't take her long to regain some of her self-control, though, and the Chosen One soon wiped away the last of her tears.

"Y'know, Buffy...what happened last night must have been REALLY scary for Xander. I mean, fighting that vampire, and then being Faith's hostage? If that were me...again..." Willow trailed off, sounding very small all of a sudden, and shuddered as she recalled what had happened that night with the Box of Gavrock. "Cordelia must've been totally freaking out, too, with the way she just took off!"

"Can't say that I blame her. Last night, Faith almost killed her first," Buffy said with an empty look on her face.

The two girls continued to talk, eventually coming to the conclusion that if there were two people who were not cut out for this sort of life, it was Xander and Cordelia. Willow said, "I mean, nowadays Cordy only comes to the Scooby meetings for Wesley, anyway!"

Buffy wasn't so sure. "You should have seen Cordelia's face last night, after she found out that Xander had slept with Faith. My opinion, she's probably just using Wes to try to make Xander jealous."

"Really? I thought...no, never mind," Willow said hurriedly, figuring that Wesley was probably too old for Cordelia, anyway. "But what are we gonna do...especially about Xander?"

At that moment, Buffy made a vital decision that would affect not only her own future, but that of Sunnydale itself. Choice and chance combining to create a different fate both for her, and this town built upon the mouth of Hell.

TBC...


	2. Exodus

See Chapter One for disclaimer and details. Hey, everyone, welcome to the second chapter of the story! I just wanna say thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far, and/or sent me feedback of some sort. 'Tis much appreciated, to be sure, and please keep it up! Now, some people have asked exactly what sort of tale this is going to be, so I thought I'd just mention it up-front; like the title implies, in many places – this will _not_ be a happy-fluffy sort of fanfic. The characters (especially the core four) are only human, thus they can and will make mistakes. Some of which will be trivial, some not so much. It's all about the journey, folks; and to quote from van Helsing's speech to Arthur Holmwood in _Dracula_: 'we must go through bitter waters before we reach the sweet'. Well, anyway, that's enough boring stuff from me – enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter Two: Exodus<strong>

**17619 White Oak Drive, Sunnydale**

**June 5th, 1999**

Saturday night in the Harris residence usually meant peppermint schnapps, loud arguments and a number of slamming doors; but not tonight. Tonight, Anthony and Jessica Harris had left their son at home alone, and the still-somewhat-bruised Xander didn't know what to do with himself apart from heading to the local nightclub, the Bronze, at some point later on.

( _Graduation's coming up,_ ) Harris thought to himself vaguely, as he went through his collection of Babylon 5 plates as a way to temporarily distract himself. ( _Yep, less than a week to go before the big A-day. And we still have no idea what's really gonna happen! Betcha I'm gonna die in my graduation robes during the Mayor's Ascension..._ )

Unfortunately, that was a distinct possibility. Mayor Richard Wilkins the Third (as well as the Second, and the First) had been planning this ritual to shed his human form and become a pure demon for over a hundred years, and he had left very little to chance at this late date. The deck was firmly stacked in the Mayor's favor, and the odds were astronomical on the white hats being able to come up with an eleventh-hour something to beat the bad guy.

And even if they could come up with something, Xander knew it was unlikely Buffy and the others would want his input on saving the world from the Big Bad.

It was something he had noticed developing since that night when the Hellmouth had almost opened up to destroy the entire planet, the same night he and Faith had slept together. Xander had never forgotten Cordelia's merciless comments back then: "It must be really hard when all your friends have, like, super-powers – Slayer, werewolf, witches, vampires – and you're, like, this little nothing. You must feel like Jimmy Olsen."

Intellectually, Xander knew that the words had been spoken by an angry and vengeful young woman whom he had caused needless pain. Still, her dig had hurt emotionally, what with the way everyone had started treating him like a useless groupie – and he'd continued to feel that way until Harris had proved to himself that he really could contribute something to the cause, that he was an important member of the group.

Despite having no super-powers, Xander had personally prevented the apocalypse by stopping a sociopathic zombie from blowing up Sunnydale High while his friends had been battling the Hellmouth demon upstairs. That had done wonders for his self-esteem – until he had miscalculated ever-so-badly with Faith, after she had killed a man and willingly embraced the dark side of the Force.

( _Gonna have to keep an eye out for her,_ ) Xander thought pessimistically. ( _I betcha good ol' Faith is already coming up with ideas on how to kill me, in order for it to hurt Buffy the most. Man, it's times like this I really wish her predecessor Kendra hadn't died..._ )

The telephone abruptly blared into life, startling Xander out of his thoughts. He picked up and said, "Hello?"

#Xander, hey. It's me, Willow,# the familiar female voice said from the other end of the line.

"Hi, Will. What's up?" Xander said into the mouthpiece.

#Uh, Buffy and Giles and I were wondering. Could you possibly come on over to her house? We were sorta hoping to talk to you, y'know, kinda now-ish,# the Rosenberg girl's voice said with a distinctly nervous tone.

"Willow, what's going on? Are you okay?" Xander demanded immediately, his suspicions aroused.

#I'm fine!# Willow started to babble anxiously. #I'm fine, Buffy's fine, Giles is fine. We're all fine! Why, why do you ask?#

"Willow, if Faith or whoever is holding you guys hostage or something, just say 'uh-huh' and I'll go get Angel and we'll-"

#NO!# Willow cut him off mid-sentence. #Xander, it's nothing like that, don't worry. We don't need rescuing or anything, I promise! Just – please, come over to Buffy's place. There's something we need to discuss with you, that's all.#

"Okay, Willow, whatever you say," Xander replied slowly. "I'll be there soon." So saying, he hung up and went to grab his coat – when Harris suddenly had the premonition that he wasn't going to like the upcoming conversation with his friends, not one bit.

* * *

><p><strong>Revello Drive, Sunnydale<strong>

**Less than twenty minutes later**

Xander pulled up alongside the Summers residence in his uncle's car, which he had borrowed for the occasion. He was just in time to see Buffy's mother, Joyce, about to get into her Jeep and drive away. "Hey, Mrs. Summers!"

Joyce turned and smiled as soon as she recognized one of her daughter's friends. "Xander, dear, it's good to see you again! It's been a while since you've come around to the house, hasn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Xander nodded. "I got a call from Willow, she's here with Buffy and Giles?"

"Yes, they're in there waiting for you. I don't suppose you could tell me what's going on, what big awful evil is happening this week?" Joyce asked semi-sarcastically.

"Nope, not right now. Well, apart from what's happening with Faith and the Mayor," Xander shrugged helplessly.

"I see. Well, I have to get to the gallery, there's an emergency with one of the exhibits. Ah, the joys of being self-employed," Joyce lamented. "Well, I might see you again when I come back later tonight. But even if I don't, you stop being such a stranger, okay? You AND that Cordelia girl who used to bring you here, I haven't seen her in months!"

For a moment, Xander wondered if Joyce knew how he and Cordy had broken up half a year ago; but he never got a chance to say anything as the middle-aged woman hurriedly said goodbye and got into her car, backing out of the driveway and then heading off down the street.

For some reason, another bad feeling swept through Xander as he headed for the front door. ( _Hey, come on, get a grip! Mrs. S knows what's what, and I kinda doubt Faith is gonna target her at this late stage. Weird as it may seem, I think out of everyone in the group, Buffy's mom is the only one that crazy bitca actually likes!_ ) The male teen then quickly rang the doorbell and entered the Summers residence without waiting for Buffy to offer him an invitation, he knew that none would be offered just in case.

"Okay, I'm here. So what's the dire?" Xander asked as he made his way into the living room.

"Ah, yes, Xander – won't you, uh, sit down?" Giles asked stiffly, getting up off the sofa.

"Yeah, Xander, sit! We'll, we'll all get nice and comfy," Willow added, looking nervous as hell.

"Okay, why do I get the feeling that I don't want to sit down? That I'm not gonna like what I'm about to hear?" Xander asked slowly, turning to stare at the Slayer suspiciously. "I spoke to your mom outside just now, Buff. Apparently she doesn't know what this little meeting is all about, which kinda makes me think it's not good news?"

Buffy set her jaw determinedly, staring up at Xander's face. "It's about last night, Xander. That little altercation you had with Faith."

"What about it?"

"Xander, she threatened to KILL you the next time she sees you!" Willow exclaimed loudly. "And do you have any idea how close you came to getting stabbed by that evil psycho?"

"Well, seeing that I was there and you weren't, Will, I'm gonna go with 'yeah'," Xander shot back, which made Willow look away with a hurt expression on her face. Fighting back the immediate impulse to apologize and comfort her, Harris then turned his gaze back toward Buffy. "So, is this an intervention of some sort? Like, are you gonna start with that whole 'you should stay fray-adjacent' thing again?"

Buffy's annoyance began to ascend towards the heavens. "This isn't a joke, Xander!"

"Yeah, because the joke is that my two best friends think that I belong on the sidelines. That I have nothing to contribute, and/or I'm totally unable to look after myself," Harris replied cuttingly, starting to lose his temper. He then turned to Giles. "I assume you're here to be the adult voice of authority, G-man? Force me to see reason, and all that?"

"Don't call me-" Giles began to say automatically, before he took off his glasses and stared Xander directly in the eye. "I'm here because Buffy asked me to be here, boy. Because she and Willow are afraid that Faith is going to, to murder you before the Ascension."

"Uh-huh. And the fact that you don't want me to be part of the Slayage – you never have – has absolutely nothing to do with this?" Xander replied with undisguised hostility. "So, is that it? I'm officially kicked out of the Scooby Gang? No more patrol, no more research, no more nothing?"

"No, it's not like that!" Willow said desperately, feeling that events were now slipping completely out of control. It had all seemed so simple and reasonable this morning, while she and Buffy had been discussing how to keep Xander safe from harm, but then the best laid plans... "Xander, we'll still hang out and everything, just-"

"We'll just hang out, Will? Where? When? And why, exactly?" Xander interrupted.

"Xander, please – don't," Willow practically begged him with tears in her eyes.

"God, Xander, will you just stop acting like such an ass? We're doing this for your own good, y'know!" Buffy said heatedly, losing her cool in the heat of the moment. "We just don't want you to get killed, and you deserve to have a normal life. Why can't you see that?"

( _Why can't I see that? I'm acting like an ass? And you're doing this FOR MY OWN GOOD?_ ) Harris opened his mouth, but then he abruptly closed it again.

Because the male teen had finally realized that while he might be NEEDED around here, as evidenced by what had happened at the school with Jack O'Toole a few months ago, he wasn't WANTED within the ranks anymore. Plus, if his friends were that determined to shut him out of the Slayage, then this particular conversation was going to happen again and again and again until he finally gave up and surrendered to their wishes.

( _Yep, I betcha Buffy and Willow won't rest until they get their own way about this..._ ) the thought stole through Xander's mind.

And the next moment, much to his shock and surprise, the youth found that he actually wanted to kill someone after contemplating being forced to undergo that sort of humiliation.

So Harris did the totally unexpected.

He said, "Fine, have it your way," and quickly walked out of the house. He didn't slam the door in a fit of childish pique or anything; Xander simply left without looking back whilst trying to calm himself down.

Buffy, Willow and Giles just stared at each other uncomfortably. "Do you think we should, uh, go after him?" the redhead asked tentatively.

"No, Xander's just – I'll talk to him on Monday morning," Buffy decided. "Give him a chance to cool off, before either of us says anything else we'll regret later."

"Buffy...I know we decided this was all for the best, but – well, I-I-I just didn't think Xander would take it like that," Willow confessed, looking more than a little upset.

With the benefit of hindsight, the apprentice witch was now certain that they could have handled this meeting a LOT better. After all, it couldn't have gone all that much worse, in her opinion. ( _Maybe we should have...I dunno, done something differently? Softened the blow somehow? Except we couldn't do that – could we? _)

"Yeah, his behavior was kinda of the weird, wasn't it? But in time, he'll come around; Xander'll see that we're just trying to do what's best for him," Buffy responded. "I'll talk to him again after the weekend, make sure everything's okay."

Almost forgotten in the background, Giles exhaled in despair. ( _As if we haven't got enough trouble, with the Mayor's Ascension at hand! Am I the only one who thinks that must be our priority?_ )

* * *

><p><strong>Somewhere on Fairfield Street, Sunnydale<strong>

**A few minutes later**

Xander was driving his uncle's car along the streets, not having any firm idea on where he was going. All he knew was that he didn't want to go home yet, and he didn't want to be around other people right now – especially not Buffy, or Willow, or Giles.

( _So this is how it ends. Not with a bang, but with a whimper, _) Harris thought to himself morosely, the murderous fury having abated not long after leaving 1630 Revello Drive. ( _Well, it's not like you didn't see it coming, pal. The girls and Sir Tweed-A-Lot have officially cut you loose. So, now what?_ )

Xander contemplated various scenarios in his head. If he survived the Ascension, he still had enough road trip money to see a lot of the country after paying off the balance of Cordelia's Prom dress; the same road trip that he and his now-deceased best friend Jesse had eagerly discussed since the days of elementary school. Maybe he could also find work along the way, go on a real American journey – see what the world was really like outside Sunnydale...

Maybe he shouldn't even bother coming back to this one-Starbucks hellhole?

CRUNCH!

"Son of a bitch!" Xander cursed angrily, after a passing car suddenly swerved and slammed directly into him. He plunged his foot down on the brake, and managed to guide the 1957 Chevy to a halt safely. The other vehicle also came to a halt not far away.

Xander leapt out of his car and growled, "I hope for your sake you have insurance, mister-!"

But the next moment, Harris found himself staring down the gun barrel of Detective Jack Stein, Sunnydale P.D. "Or not?" he finished up weakly.

"Back up, and don't bother screaming for help," Stein told the high school senior. "It won't do you any good in this neighborhood."

"Uh, mind if I ask why you're doing this?" Xander blurted out, even though he could make an educated guess.

Detective Stein admitted he didn't know why, but then he added it was none of his business anyway; orders from the Mayor's office didn't require reasons. "Still, if I were to guess, it's 'cause you and your girlfriends have been screwing things up for everyone around here for too long now."

"My girlfriends?" Xander's jaw dropped almost to the ground. The Scooby Gang had known for some time that the Sunnydale cops took their orders from the Mayor, and covered up all the supernatural-related murders around town, but still – Xander hadn't expected to hear that sort of gossip from the balding policeman.

What wasn't gossip was that Richard Wilkins now wanted Xander dead because Harris had threatened Faith's life last night – so the Mayor's actions were to safeguard her, as well as distract Buffy and co. for a bit. Richard's pseudo-daughter was his one human weakness, after all.

All appeared lost as Xander had nowhere to go, and was about to be killed – when Stein was shot dead, instead. The gunshot echoed loudly into the night, but just as the cop had promised, no one paid any attention and no one called 911.

Xander turned to stare at his savior, but any feelings of gratitude and relief abruptly evaporated as he saw the shooter was Patrice; the fake Police Lady from the Order of Taraka whom the Scoobies had encountered last year – the assassin who had tried to kill Buffy during Career Week. "You again?"

Patrice took aim at her new target, saying nothing in reply.

"Uh, not that I'm complaining – but why did ya kill Detective Stein, here, exactly?" Xander asked, gesturing towards the dead cop.

Patrice did not bother to explain everything to her soon-to-be-dead target, like some comic book super-villain. Besides, she didn't know that the Mayor thought that if Xander was murdered and also labelled a cop killer...well, it would put the blonde Slayer off her game a bit more, what with all the police interviews and questioning Miss Summers would be forced to undergo.

All Patrice cared about was the bounty she was being paid for this job. She then began squeezing the trigger...

"Hey, blood bag, I'm hungry!"

Choice and chance had again combined in the form of a newly-risen vampire, who was not part of the Mayor's cabal – a fledgling who was starving, and had stupidly decided to take on an operative for the Order of Taraka after bumping into her just now.

"Shit!" Patrice cursed to herself as the vampire attacked, quickly holstering the gun and withdrawing a stake from beneath her police uniform. She quickly dusted the undead thing, but whilst she had been making with the staking, Xander had not been idle either.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Patrice felt the bullets hit her, courtesy of Harris quickly scooping up Detective Stein's dropped gun and shooting her the moment he had a clear angle of fire. Even though she wasn't mortally wounded – despite appearances, Patrice was not entirely human – the gunshots did incapacitate the female assassin long enough for Xander to get into his car and roar off down the street.

"You're a dead man, Harris!" Patrice shouted loudly enough for the youth to hear as the Chevy sped away, the red-haired woman cursing and trying to get up off the ground.

Xander was scared and tried to think of what to do, since he already knew he couldn't go home – the late Detective Stein's buddies were almost certainly going to be there waiting for him. And since the cops were all in on the conspiracy, he'd be shot on sight. Plus, Xander knew that since the Order of Taraka was now involved, if he stayed in Sunnydale – he would be hunted down with extreme prejudice, no matter where he tried to hide.

There was no other choice; he had to leave town. Right now.

Xander did briefly stop and try to call Cordelia, using a phone booth to say goodbye, figuring that nobody would think he'd contact his ex-girlfriend given their history – but no one was home; plus, there was no answering machine. So Xander just hung up and quickly got back in his car.

It was a fairly warm evening, sixty-eight degrees at 8:47 p.m., when the population of Sunnydale once again fell by one.

* * *

><p><strong>Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale<strong>

**June 7th, 1999**

Cordelia was feeling somewhat anxious, after reading that Detective Stein had been killed in the newspaper yesterday. She knew that he had investigated Buffy twice as a murder suspect since junior year, so the policeman's death – something that would inevitably soon be forgotten by the townspeople – was of vague interest to her.

But Stein's unexpected demise wasn't the reason why she was feeling anxious. The issue of her ex-boyfriend's current whereabouts was responsible for that particular emotion.

The cheerleader had thought about it, ever since talking to Wesley about everything on Saturday night. Despite being mad at Xander for the Faith thing, after she'd calmed down – well, Cordy was appreciative of the fact that her ex had successfully bargained with Psycho Slayer to release her during Prom night.

Add in the drunken pass she'd made at him and how he'd cared enough to turn her down, and thoughts of finally forgiving Harris for cheating on her had crossed Cordelia's mind since Friday evening.

And yet, when she'd called his house on Sunday, Xander's parents had said that they had no idea where he was – and she got the distinct impression that they didn't care, either.

( _Where the hell has the big goof gone?_ ) Cordelia thought to herself apprehensively, as she headed for the library. ( _Sure, he probably went off to sulk somewhere private, but where? Well, I guess the Wonder Twins are sure to know where he is. Hell, Xander doesn't do anything without their permission these days!_ )

"Cordelia! Err, it's a pleasure to see you, as always," Wesley stammered as soon as the stunning brunette entered the library.

"If you wanna flirt with Wesley, can ya go do it somewhere else? 'Cause we're kinda busy here," Buffy said, briefly looking up from one of the dusty old books Giles had placed on the table.

"Busy doing what? Moping over the fact that Angel dumped you?" Cordelia said cattily, as she was in a bit of a bad mood right now; what with the concern over her ex-boyfriend.

"Hey, that's not nice!" Willow leapt to her best friend's defence immediately, as Buffy glared at the former princess.

"Cordelia, how can we assist you today?" Giles asked wearily. ( _I swear, these blasted childish antics will be the death of me yet!_ )

"I'm looking for Xander. Anyone seen him?" Cordelia asked, looking around.

"Why would you be looking for him?" Wes demanded straightaway. "I mean, after the other night, I would have thought you-"

"Hated his guts?" Buffy piped up innocently. Since, in her mind, this was proof her classmate had just been using Wesley all along to make Xander jealous.

"I don't – exactly – hate the big loser," Cordelia said stiffly, sending a glare in Buffy's direction. "And I don't need to explain myself to you people, either. Now has anyone seen Xander on campus today, or not?"

"Uh, no, and I've looked," Willow said, appearing worried. "Buff, didn't you say you were gonna find him this morning? Clear the air after everything that happened during the weekend?"

"Well, yeah, but I...didn't go looking for him. Y'know, I was kinda busy with classes and the research thing, and I just figured we'd see him in the library sometime today," Buffy said to her best friend apologetically.

Willow frowned, "But Buffy, Xander isn't gonna come to the library! Not after what we all said to him on Saturday night!"

"Oh yeah...good point," Buffy nodded in embarrassment.

"Whoa, hold on. What are you people talking about? What happened on Saturday night?" Cordelia demanded.

"Kinda wanting to know that myself," Oz finally spoke up in his typically short, noncommittal way.

"Errr...there was a meeting at Buffy's house, and, um, Buffy, Willow and I informed Xander that his help was no longer required in any way with regard to the, ah, Slaying," Giles filled in the uncomfortable silence, once he realized the two girls weren't going to speak up.

"You did WHAT?" Cordelia yelped in amazement.

"Well, we had to! It, it was for his own good – even putting aside Faith threatening to murder him, an ordinary guy like Xander would get killed doing that sort of thing sooner or later!" Willow said rather desperately.

"I don't believe this! Even though he acted like a complete and utter asshole to me, Xander was always devoted to you two! And THIS is how you repay him?" Cordelia exclaimed in disgust, since she knew just how important fighting the good fight was to her ex. "With friends like you two and Giles, who the hell needs enemies!"

"Shut. Your. Mouth," Buffy growled at Cordelia, she was in no mood to tolerate this sort of criticism.

"And what are you gonna do if I don't, o bottle-blonde menace? Slay me? Beat me up? Kick me out of your little freaks and geeks club, the same way you did Xander?" Cordelia sneered challengingly.

"Now see here!" Wesley said in a shocked tone of voice. "Cordelia, it's hardly appropriate for you to be saying such things..." he then trailed off, as Miss Chase turned her glare in his direction.

"What IS it with you Watcher types? Do they brainwash you into thinking that somehow, the Slayer's always right or something?" Cordelia asked Wesley cuttingly.

"HEY!" Buffy shouted, greatly offended.

"Cordelia, I can understand you being upset right now. But Xander Harris is not worth this anger, this sort of unsightly display..." Wesley started to say.

"You mean because he was never rich, right? Well, nowadays, neither am I," Cordelia responded coolly, even as Willow and Buffy gaped at hearing this news.

Wesley spluttered, "Well, I-I-I can help take care of your financial needs..."

"How? As your hot young wife? Or were you planning to go the other way? Maybe set me up in my own place for you to visit, somewhere...discreet? Seriously, Wesley, do you wanna help me because of the whole 'stiff upper lip' thing – or is it just hormones, and you're only interested because I have a pair of breasts?" Cordelia demanded.

"Neither one!" Wesley shouted, before he realized just how that remark could be misconstrued. "No, I-I mean..."

"You know what, Wes? You can consider our dinner date tomorrow night officially cancelled. Not to mention any and all other dates as well!" Cordelia then stormed out, and Oz volunteered to go after her.

Buffy and Willow stared at him in surprise, not expecting the taciturn werewolf to do something like that.

But then, Oz was neither blind nor deaf, and the conversation just now had left him with a lot to think about.

* * *

><p><strong>Wolfram &amp; Hart law building, Los Angeles<strong>

**The same time**

The scientist named Knox, who had worshipped the Old One named Illyria since he was eleven years old, rubbed at his chest painfully. He had recently been anointed the prehistoric demon's Qwa'ha Xahn, its High Priest, and so he had taken Illyria's sacraments and surgically placed them close to his heart, according to the ancient ways.

There was so much to do over the next five years, before Knox could finally rescue-slash-unleash Illyria from the prison known as the Deeper Well.

* * *

><p><strong>Outside the remains of Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale<strong>

**June 11th, 1999**

Graduation was over, as was the Mayor's Ascension – as the blasted ruins of Sunnydale High could officially testify.

The last week or so had been pretty hectic. Angel had been infected with a lethal mystical poison by Faith – as part of the Mayor's plan to distract the good guys even further, apart from the 'missing Xander' thing. The cure had involved completely draining the blood of a Slayer, and so Buffy had tried to capture Faith to accomplish just that.

Unfortunately, the brunette had thrown herself off an apartment balcony after Buffy had stabbed her in the stomach with Faith's own knife, ending up in a coma – and so, Miss Summers had fed herself to Angel in order to save his life. That had almost killed her, but somehow, Buffy had survived the huge blood loss and led her friends to war against the ascended Mayor.

Without Xander present, unfortunately, the war had resulted in quite a few extra casualties for the good guys.

The Scooby Gang had come up with a plan to blow up the pure demon known as Olvikan with explosives, after Wesley had explained in detail how the explosive power of a volcano had destroyed that sort of demon a long time ago. The plan should have worked, in theory.

But...

...in Xander's absence, Oz was the one who'd had to organize the placement of the explosives to blow up the ascended Mayor. And with little time and no Halloween soldier memories to guide him, the werewolf had gotten his information from a couple of books Giles had had in his library.

The flying debris resulting from not rigging the explosives to direct the majority of the detonation inwards, to consume the giant Mayor-snake and the foundations of the school, had killed at least a dozen students and injured scores of others.

Right now Buffy, Cordelia, Willow and Oz were watching the coroner's people load the body bags into the various meat wagons, as Giles left to see how the injured Wesley was doing. Both British men had survived the war, as had Angel – who was heading out of town, right now.

"Well, I can't say it's been fun. You people, have a nice life here in Sunnyhell – me, I'm heading for Hollywood the day after tomorrow," Cordelia said bitingly, before she turned and walked away.

"And we'll all miss you so much, I'm sure," Buffy muttered to herself, before she likewise walked off after saying goodbye to her friends.

"Hmmm," Oz commented.

Willow stared at her lycanthropic boyfriend in sudden concern. A woman knows her man, after all, and even though most people wouldn't have been able to read the werewolf's facial expression – Willow was not 'most people'.

"Oz, what is it? Are you...what's wrong?" she asked.

Oz's eyes were fastened firmly on the vans containing quite a number of corpses. "All those people are dead because of me."

"No, don't think that!" Willow told him urgently, giving her beloved a brief hug. "You did the best you could setting up those explosives, you couldn't have known-"

"Xander would have known," Oz cut her off. "Thinking we both know that."

"Yeah, but Xander's – gone," Willow tried to restrain the grief she habitually felt whenever she thought of her first ever childhood friend. After nearly a week of no news, despite Buffy viciously beating up anyone and anything who might have known something about Xander's disappearance, Willow had assumed the worst and written him off as yet another victim of Sunnydale's nightlife.

Or the Mayor, which pretty much amounted to the same thing.

"I think we should break up," Oz suddenly announced to his girlfriend.

"WHAT?" Willow recoiled in shock, this was completely unexpected. "What, what, what are you talking about? Oz, why do you want to-"

"I've been thinking about it since Monday morning," Oz interrupted her again. "You, Giles and Buffy kicked Xander out of the group, because you felt he was a liability. But apart from three nights a month when I'm the wolf, I'm just as Joe Normal as him – and so, if Xander wasn't good enough to be part of the gang anymore because of that, then I'm not either."

"Oz, this is CRAZY!" Willow said urgently, not having anticipated how her recent actions would come back to haunt her three-fold like this. "I mean, even if that was true – which it SO isn't! – that's no reason for us to break up! I mean, don't you love me?"

"My whole life, I've never loved anyone the way I love you," Oz told her honestly.

"Then why are you doing this?"

"Because I don't deserve some sort of special consideration that Xander didn't," Oz replied. "And because you deserve better than someone guilty of manslaughter. To be honest, I ought to turn myself in to the state cops-"

"NO!" Willow shouted, eventually convincing the werewolf that that wouldn't help relieve his feelings of guilt; only to have Oz then turn and walk away, leaving her behind in more ways than one.

The tears streamed down Willow's cheeks, her heart utterly shattered as all around her, the dead and the injured were transported away from the disaster area that had been Sunnydale High.

TBC...


	3. Alternate Paths

See Chapter One for disclaimer and details. Welcome to the latest chapter, everyone, and wow! I wasn't expecting that many reviews for the previous instalment of the story, thank you very much to everyone who sent in feedback of some sort. Please, keep those reviews comin'! Now, just to let you all know, I'm going to be doing some world-building in the next few chapters, I can't just skip ahead to the time of the five-year reunion. BUT I'm only going to be touching lightly on all the events of the Buffy- and Angel-verse through to 2004, only what I need to set up the main plot in later chapters. Everything I mention up until then is there for a reason! Trust me...if you dare...

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three: Alternate Paths<strong>

**Winters residence, Los Angeles**

**September 29th, 1999**

Ever since Cordelia Chase had left Sunnydale, her life had gotten much worse instead of much better, like she'd expected for it to do.

Instead of a condo in Malibu, she'd been forced to live in a roach-filled leaky apartment in the projects of LA. Instead of a glamorous rise to the top of Hollywood's elite, she'd gone to one or two auditions for TV commercials that had led precisely nowhere. Instead of getting rich quick about the only asset she'd had left was Xander's Prom dress, which she had worn to a party in the Hollywood hills last night; an informal gathering hosted by a woman named Margo.

It was there she'd run into a familiar male face – someone she knew from Sunnydale.

"Timmy?" Cordy had said in astonishment last night, as her cousin Timothy Chase had materialized out of the crowd. "What, what are you doing here?"

"Looking for you, of course. And don't call me 'Timmy', will you? I'm not eight years old anymore!" Tim had then grabbed her by the arm and steered his female cousin away from the crowd – thus causing Cordelia to miss out on meeting Angel.

Much to the chagrin of a rogue Power That Be – a higher power which had quickly started to make alternate plans in order to descend from the higher realms, and take over the mortal world one day.

Cordelia had subsequently confessed everything to Tim, who had later decided that she was going to move in with him straightaway – one look at the filthy dump his cousin was living in after he'd escorted her home, had convinced Mr. Chase of that. But before it could happen, Cordy had received a phone call from Margo, saying that Russell Winters had expressed interest in helping her movie star career get started – and the rest was history.

"You're a vampire! You're a vampire!" Cordelia hollered, backing away from Russell in his fortress-like home. ( _Yuckiest demon face ever, but still!_ )

"I love it when they run," Winters laughed to himself, about to chase after her. But then he stopped laughing as all the lights abruptly went out. "What the hell?"

That 'what,' it turned out, happened to be Angel.

He had come here on a mission of revenge, to kill Winters for murdering a young woman named Tina; someone Angel had recently been trying to protect, after meeting a seer for the Powers named Alan Francis Doyle. Not needing an invitation to enter a fellow vampire's home, the Champion smashed his way through the patio door and said, "Russell Winters. I have a message for you – from Tina."

"I don't know who you are, but you made a very big mistake coming here," Winters growled at the other undead, forgetting all about the fleeing Cordelia – someone who was now heading for the front door, and desperately calling Tim to come and pick her up on the cell phone he had given her last night.

"The name's Angelus. You might have heard of me," Angel replied, totally focusing on his opponent, given that he didn't have to worry about protecting the Chase woman. He then withdrew a stake and attacked.

Unfortunately, Angel didn't quite manage to kill Russell, thanks to the various bodyguards Winters had patrolling his estate. But he DID manage to shove the bad guy out the window of the top floor office in the Wolfram & Hart building the next day, burning Russell into ashes as the gathered lawyers watched helplessly.

Curiously, Cordelia never did find out what had happened to the soulless monster that had wanted to drain her dry that night. Putting the incident behind her as soon as possible, Miss Chase was too busy trying to get her Hollywood acting career off the ground – and failing miserably to do so, despite her cousin Tim's help.

* * *

><p><strong>Sunnydale General Hospital, Sunnydale<strong>

**August 18th, 2000**

Oz saw Buffy and the rest of the Scooby Gang gathered together not far away, as he waited to hear from the doctors what was the situation with his best friend, Devon; someone who had undergone a drug overdose last night. But as soon as he saw Willow and her girlfriend Tara Maclay hold hands, the werewolf averted his eyes from the group and pretended he simply hadn't noticed them.

It was his own fault, Oz knew that. He had broken up with Willow over a year ago, and she had moved on. The musician had never expected the redhead to move on to a woman whilst he'd been in Tibet seeking a cure to his lycanthropy problem, but then people had a way of surprising you – Willow, most of all.

Still, his life wasn't all bad. For example, Oz had never run afoul of the demon-hunting group called the Initiative last year, before a cyber-demonoid named ADAM had tried to kill them all. Luckily, even though nearly ninety percent of the Initiative soldiers had been slaughtered, the Scooby Gang had managed to rip out ADAM's power source and save the day at the last moment – by using blitzkrieg tactics against the cyborg, and Oz providing a timely distraction using his finally-under-control werewolf aspect.

Oz spotted a familiar face wearing a 1970's black leather duster lurking nearby. So he went up to the individual in question and said, "This is a hospital. No smoking allowed."

The chipped, soulless British vampire named Spike merely sneered at Oz. "So what are ya gonna do about it, Dog Boy? Tell the Slayer on me?"

"Maybe. Or I might call Security and have them throw you out of the building. Without your blanket," Oz replied to his one-time roommate.

"Well, now I'm scared. No, wait, I'm not – not of some git who couldn't even keep his bird 'appy," Spike sniggered in Oz's face. "Y'know, when I 'eard that Red started playin' for the other team, I figgered it was all your fault – that you'd ruined her for all other blokes by dumping her cute arse way back when. But nowadays, I'm thinkin' otherwise. What do you reckon, mate – Willow just needs to find a REAL man, to get over this little lesbian phase o' hers?"

"You think you qualify, even if that was true?" Oz replied emotionlessly. "You couldn't even keep Harmony happy, the way I heard it."

Spike growled, instinctively slipping into his vampire face. His history with that undead airhead wasn't something William the Bloody cared to dwell upon right now. The peroxide-blonde Englishman then managed to calm himself and resume his human mask, making a few more scathing remarks to Oz before deciding to leave the hospital and resume stalking Buffy some other time.

"Mr. Osborne?" an intern named Ben finally caught Oz's attention. "I need to talk to you about your friend, Mr. MacLeish?"

"Devon," Oz nodded.

"Well, the good news is that he'll survive what happened with the PCP last night. But I'm afraid there's been significant damage to his heart..." Ben trailed off, feeling something strange about to happen to him. "I..."

"Are you okay?" Oz asked in concern.

"Ngggh...something's wrong..." Ben managed to gasp, before running off towards the bathroom.

Oz followed him, frowning. His werewolf nose told him that the man was human, but now there was a smell that hinted to Oz of something that wasn't part of the human world. There was also an electric buzz, a hint of magic, which had begun to coalesce in the air. The bass guitarist had felt it often enough when Willow had practiced learning magic during high school.

Oz found Ben in one of the toilet stalls, and the man was visibly sick. But before the werewolf could say anything, Ben morphed into a beautiful blonde woman.

The hellgod Glorificus, or 'Glory' as she preferred to be known. A creature that had been cast out of its hellfire dimension nearly twenty-five years ago, imprisoned in Ben's body to die on the mortal plane. But recently the prison walls had been breached, and Glory was now able to manifest herself in the human world.

"I'm hungry!" Glory shouted, exiting the stall as Oz stared at her in surprise. Then she looked down at the blue surgical scrubs Ben had had on. "UGH! What the hell is this crap that I'm wearing?"

( _Okay, someone reminds me of a blonde Cordelia..._ ) "Who are you?" Oz asked politely, drawing attention to himself.

Glory turned to stare at him, and straightaway wrinkled her nose. "What is that smell? You stink! Don't you ever take a bath? Eww. What is that stench, anyway, something canine? Oh, don't tell me – you're a freaking werewolf, aren't you? Stupid human mutts, can't even brain-suck them..."

With casual, almost contemptuous ease, Glory smacked Oz aside as the lycanthrope smashed into the wall with enough force to knock him out completely. The next moment though, her infernal energy exhausted, Glory had to relinquish control of the body to Ben and retreat to deep within her host. Until she had gathered enough strength to break free again, anyway.

The real battle, however, had already been won.

Because after he woke up, Oz would still remember what had happened – the cloaking magic which prevented anyone human from remembering that Ben was Glory and Glory was Ben had failed to work on him, because technically he wasn't human – he was a werewolf. Consequently, the young man was immune to such magicks.

Thus, Buffy would not have to die for the cause in about nine months' time, after her little sister Dawn had been created by the monks of the Order of Dagon – because Oz and a semi-reluctant Spike would take care of business, before it ever came to that.

* * *

><p><strong>Exclusive health club, Los Angeles<strong>

**The same time**

Angel, Wesley and the woman named Harriet (a.k.a. Harry) Doyle met up outside the club, and then quickly walked inside.

"Can I help you?" the attendant at the front desk asked. But Angel and his companions never even broke stride, and the guy had to follow the Fang Gang through the health club to catch up. "I'm sorry, but this club is for members and their guests only!"

"Yeah, well, I'm thinking of joining," Angel replied carelessly.

"Excuse me! But you can't come in here without a membership, or a guest pass!" the attendant insisted, getting flustered over how his orders were still being totally ignored.

Harry, the widow of Alan Francis Doyle who had inherited his gift-slash-curse of visions from the Powers That Be, said to Angel, "Are you sure we're in the right place?"

Wesley nodded. "This is a tad public for a Praetorian sacrifice."

"The quadrants match. Besides, it's a Carnyss demon, and they love muscles and mirrors," Angel replied as everyone came to a stop, the attendant still behind them.

"Hey, listen! I'm not fooling around, I will call the pol-" the attendant blustered, before he finally noticed that the vampire wasn't reflected in the wall of mirrors before which they were all standing.

"Huh. No reflection. I'll fix that," Angel promised the health club worker, before he kicked in the mirror wall and stepped through the jagged edges of the shattered glass, surprising a red-robed human and a demon with its sword raised to sacrifice two bound and gagged captives.

Angel vamped out and commanded the bad guys, "Stop that."

The fight began, as Angel first slammed the charging human against a wall and then began to fight the Carnyss demon with the sword. While Wesley and Harry took out the human acolyte by dropping a round metal weight on the guy's head, the ensouled vampire managed to tear the sword away from the demon and stab it through the heart with its own weapon.

"That guy has horns," the wide-eyed attendant stammered in disbelief, looking into the hidden chamber as the Fang Gang freed the captives.

"Steroids. Not good for you," Angel quipped as the good guys escorted the sacrifices out of there.

"Seriously, Angel, steroids?" Harry asked archly a few minutes later, as she, Wes and the undead Champion began to leave the gymnasium.

"It's something you gotta worry about, y'know, when you're human," Angel shrugged.

"You're thinking about that shanshu prophecy again, aren't you?" the blonde Vision Girl asked, referring to something her boss had found stored in the basement of the Wolfram & Hart building a few months ago. "Angel, we still don't know when that's going to happen, when the Powers are going to make you human. Didn't Wesley say that it'll be at least three years or something?"

"You're referring to that part of the prophecy concerning the Beast of Amalfie. However, that's not necessarily when Angel's shanshu will take place," Wesley pointed out. "Still, Harry does raise a good point; there's no need for us to count our chickens before they're hatched. And, doubtless, Wolfram & Hart will keep us all busy until Angel's shanshu is finally upon us."

"I just wish we knew what it was that the evil lawyers raised a few months ago, when that Vocah guy was around," Angel said, referring to the ritual of the Raising; a dark and unholy rite which had resurrected Angel's sire, Darla, from the realms of oblivion.

"Well, I suspect we'll find out soon enough," Wesley said pessimistically.

The ex-Watcher was more right than he knew, as in the coming months both Darla and Drusilla – Spike's sire, and Angel's demented childe – would create chaos and terror for Angel's Avengers AND the LA branch of the firm.

* * *

><p><strong>Stateville Correctional Center, Joliet<strong>

**January 19th, 2001**

In sunny California, Buffy and the Scooby Gang were celebrating the blonde Slayer's 20th birthday. But here in wintry Illinois, Xander Harris was doing time for arson.

The young man's life had changed a LOT since that night he'd driven out of Sunnydale as if the Devil himself was on his trail. Xander had headed north towards Oxnard and beyond, before he had abandoned his uncle's car and done his best to disappear so that Patrice and the Order of Taraka would be unable to find him.

Xander had subsequently done many things to stay underneath the radar, like avoiding human contact altogether by camping in places like Yosemite National Park. But that phase hadn't lasted long; he'd ended up hating being all alone, so he'd eventually headed east and decided to settle down in Chicago.

To pass the time Xander had often worked as a day laborer for the construction company called Bulley & Andrews; it was minimum wage work, but it was in cash with no questions asked, just like for other men who had no wish for their names to come to the attention of the authorities. Or anyone else, for that matter.

When he was working, it wasn't so bad. But when Xander was alone, that was when the paranoia had crept in. He was suspicious of every new face he saw, because to his mind, it might belong to one of the Order's assassins. Harris had kept an eye on every alley, every street corner, and every bum on a park bench he passed by, just in case they turned out to be trouble. There had even been one case of mistaken identity, where Harris had taken a drug dealer's interest in him as the prelude to a hail of bullets heading his way.

It was rather ironic, therefore, that the youth had eventually been imprisoned for something totally unrelated to the Order of Taraka.

A nest of vampires had started preying on the people within the run-down neighborhood Xander was living in, so he'd had to do something about it – but unfortunately, burning down the building the bloodsuckers had been lured into meant being spotted doing so by the local cops, arrested, processed through the courts and sent to jail for five years.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Harris. I'm Lilah Morgan; attorney at law from the firm of Wolfram & Hart, Los Angeles branch," the striking brunette said with a genuine-looking smile as Xander sat down opposite her at one of the small tables in the interview hall.

If the evil lawyer was expecting a reply, she was sorely disappointed. Silence was the only response from the Sunnydale-born prison convict.

"Well. Let's get down to business, shall we?" Lilah asked, her smile growing wider. "You know, you were a rather difficult man to track down. Even for a full-service law firm like mine – oh, did I mention that I'm the new head of the Special Projects division? That means resources such that you couldn't even imagine. Then again, maybe you could. Since you grew up in Sunnydale and all-"

As quick as a snake, Xander lashed out and grabbed Lilah's left arm. "What. Do. You. Want?" he rasped angrily.

"I want to hire you, Mr. Harris. I'm willing to become your lawyer pro bono and get you out of here, in exchange for you doing a job for me," Ms. Morgan replied, her smile not flickering for an instant as the prisoner let go of her arm. "Interested?"

Xander already suspected that her offer was simply too good to be true, as he'd heard about Wolfram & Hart on the prison grapevine. A few inmates had spoken to him of how that particular law firm could get its clients off, no matter how guilty they were; but the price they asked in return was usually a very steep one. "What's the catch?"

Lilah kept on smiling at her companion. "There isn't one, oddly enough. Well, apart from the dangers associated with the job, of course. You see – last month in Los Angeles, two female vampires massacred my predecessor, Holland Manners, and sixteen other lawyers in Special Projects. Including my old friends and co-workers, Lindsey and Lee! So I want you to track down those two vampires, and dust them with extreme prejudice."

"Why me?" Xander asked suspiciously.

"Ah, well, there's a number of reasons. First of all – you have the advantage in that you're a complete outsider, so, hopefully neither target should see you coming. Second, you're familiar with the vampires in question as they spent some time in Sunnydale when you were still living there. Third, I don't think there's any danger of you running afoul of the so-called Champion those two have been consorting with lately – your old frenemy, Angel."

The mention of that name brought back memories of a time Xander did not care to dwell upon. Especially that night Faith had threatened to cut his heart out. "All right, now I'm curious. Who exactly are these two vamps you're wanting dusted?"

Lilah's smile finally vanished, as she slid two old photographs across the table. "Darla; she's the vampire who, according to Files and Records, killed your childhood friend named Jesse McNally. And Drusilla; the vampire who killed your other friend, Kendra the Slayer."

Shocked, Xander stared at the black and white pictures of the blonde and the brunette. Harris had known that Drusilla was most likely still out there somewhere, but he had no idea how Darla could have returned – as he had seen Angel stake her with his own two eyes, during his sophomore year of high school. ( _Still, what do I care about that? If everything I've heard so far is true, that bitch is back – and that's all that matters._ )

"Lady, you got yourself a deal," Harris said to Lilah grimly. And so the pair quickly shook hands on the matter and, as simple as that, their business was concluded.

Thus, it would come to pass that a few weeks later – even for Wolfram & Hart, it took some time to grease the wheels of justice a bit – Xander arrived in the City of Angels. The scientist named Knox gave him everything he needed; and afterwards, Harris staked out the home of Angel Investigations, the one and only Hyperion Hotel.

And despite the screaming of that rogue Power That Be in a higher dimension, Xander dusted Darla with an axe to the neck after she arrived at the Hyperion and got hit by a tranquilliser dart, just outside the front doors. The mercenary named Skip refused to intervene to save the so-called Grandmother, as the silver demon definitely did not want to incur the wrath of the Senior Partners – whom he knew were personally watching events on the mortal realm.

Luckily however for the renegade Power, it was able to select a new set of Grandparents as part of its backup plans in order to eventually create the miracle child – the son of two vampires, and the key ingredient for the Power to manifest within the mortal realm. Those plans were quickly put into effect, as the destinies of Spike and Harmony subsequently changed direction on a grand scale.

Knowing nothing of all this, unfortunately, Xander set off to locate and stake Drusilla – a task that would take him a long time, given her gifts of second sight and whatnot, but then Harris had a whole lifetime ahead of him and nothing else in particular to do.

* * *

><p><strong>Sunnydale Police Department Headquarters, Sunnydale<strong>

**May 7th, 2002**

Locked up within the crowded jail cell, the Trio – Andrew Wells, Jonathan Levinson and Warren Mears – were all present and accounted for. And while Andrew and Jonathan were having a ridiculous sissy-kicker fight, Warren was brooding on the top bunk and ignoring his two partners-in-crime.

Here and now, many things were different than they otherwise would have been, had Xander Harris not left Sunnydale.

For example, Buffy had never engaged in a sexual relationship with Spike over the last nine months. This was because she had never been brought back from the dead, and become thoroughly traumatized by being torn out of Heaven. The blonde Slayer's subsequent lack of interest in the chipped vampire's welfare was one reason why Spike had finally left Sunnydale back in February, around the time Riley and Samantha Finn had shown up to taken care of a Suvolte demon and its spawn – which was all part of the rogue Power's new plans.

Be that as it may, though, since Xander hadn't been there in Buffy's backyard when Warren came storming in with a gun – and the Slayer didn't have to push Harris out of the way – Ms. Summers had hurled an ugly-looking garden gnome at the maniac's head before he could pull the trigger, and knocked Mears out cold. As a result, the cops had come and arrested Warren, Tara was never killed and Dark Willow had never been unleashed.

Warren suddenly lost his temper over Andrew and Jonathan's foolish antics and he yelled at them, "Will you two idiots knock it off? Shut up and lemme think! We're in big trouble here..."

Andrew stared at his not-so-secret crush. "You think they'll let my aunt bring me my Discman?"

"That's what you're concerned about? We're in jail, you moron!" Jonathan said scornfully.

"We're in custody. We haven't actually been charged yet," Andrew pointed out the slight differences in the technicalities regarding their current incarceration.

"Well, thanks for the clarification, Dragnet!" Jonathan then stared at both Andrew and Warren angrily, "It doesn't matter what you call it; they got us, okay? We're all going down for what we did. Despite the fact that you two planned it so that I'd be the one left behind, holding the bag!"

"That's not true! I – would have carried you..." Andrew trailed off, as he saw Levinson wasn't buying his explanation regarding their recent attempted robbery and why Jonathan had been the only one without a rocket jet-pack.

At that moment, Patrice showed up. The same Patrice who had shot Detective Stein three years ago, that night he'd been about to murder Xander.

Even though after the Mayor had been killed, and the contract on Xander's life had been officially nullified – there being no paying client anymore, and Richard Wilkins had been enough of a cheapskate to only pay up after the job was done, apart from a small down payment – Patrice had nonetheless requested to stay here in Sunnydale, on the off-chance that Xander would show up again and she could finish the job.

This was personal for her, after all.

Harris had humiliated her that night and the female assassin could not be content until after her former target was dead. Still, the upper echelons of the Order had decided yesterday to recall her to active duty, since it was now obvious that the man was never coming back to his home town.

"Warren Mears," Patrice announced, standing in front of the Trio.

"Yeah?"

Ignoring Andrew and Jonathan, Patrice told Warren that she was actually an undercover operative for the Order of Taraka. "I've been keeping an eye on you as a potential recruit for the Order since it came to my attention that you'd killed your ex-girlfriend, the woman named Katrina Silbers. I thought you had what it took to join us, Mr. Mears; but it seems I was mistaken. Now I have to leave, and report to my superiors that I was wasting my time with you all along."

Ignoring the frantic questions from Andrew and Jonathan, Warren stared at Patrice and asked himself some pointed questions. ( _Like, why would she even bother coming here at all, if that was it?_ )

The next moment, Warren managed to get it. He asked, "What exactly does it takes to join this Order of yours?"

Patrice replied, "At least three separate confirmed kills for entry at the initiate level – a lot more before you get your own ring, and actually become one of us." She subsequently displayed her ring with the Order's symbol to Warren.

The robot maker could see how closely the false cop was standing to the jail cell, and more importantly the position Patrice was in – he could reach through the bars and just grab her pistol, if he wanted to. Looking into Patrice's eyes Warren nodded once, grabbed the firearm and took aim at his cellmates.

"What are you doing-?" Jonathan managed to splutter, just before Warren pulled the trigger and shot Levinson up close, using his own body to try to muffle the noise.

Andrew squawked, "But, but, you promised me that we'd be together forever-!" before Warren ruthlessly killed him too.

Smiling, Patrice opened the jail cell door and Warren handed over the gun to her. "Does that qualify for three separate confirmed kills?"

"Yes, indeed..."

Warren then willingly followed Patrice as they escaped from the stationhouse, and the evil pair quickly left Sunnydale.

Mears definitely planned to come back one day, though, and finish what he'd started in terms of killing Buffy. Because Warren still hated her with a fiery passion, and he wasn't the type to ever forgive and forget either.

TBC...


	4. Where Are They Now?

See Chapter One for disclaimer and details. Welcome, one and all, to the latest chapter of the story! It's kinda astonishing to me how many reviews this fanfic has received, to be honest with you. I wasn't expecting this many so quickly! Well, thank you all once again for telling me what you think of this tale, you make me feel all warm and squishy inside. :) Anyway, I finally managed to get this chapter ready, after a VERY long day at work (but then, I'm sure you people don't want to hear about that). So sit back, relax, and get ready for the latest twists and turns as I slowly build up to the main plot...

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four: Where Are They Now?<strong>

**Outside Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale**

**September 13th, 2002**

( _I still can't believe it's actually back,_ ) Willow thought to herself as she stared at Buffy, Giles and Dawn – who were all disappearing inside the newly built high school. ( _And I also can't believe how that principal guy, Robin Wood, gave Buffy and Giles jobs here as a student counsellor and the school librarian! Talk about weird..._ )

Indeed, all this greatly reminded the redhead of that very first day she'd met Buffy, nearly six years ago. The circumstances were somewhat different, of course – Dawn was the high school student now, and Buffy had stepped into Joyce's shoes after the Summers mom had passed away around eighteen months ago. But the similarities were enough to still cause a major wiggins on Willow's part.

( _The bricks and mortar, the tiles and the floorboards, the electrical fittings and everything else, they're all brand new, but still – this feels like the exact same high school that tried its best to kill all of us, back in the old days. I mean it's built right over the exact same Hellmouth! Who knows what's gonna crawl up outta there later this year? So, totally non-peachy keen, that would be the situation._ )

Willow then checked her watch, figuring she ought to head off to UC Sunnydale soon. This was her final year of study, as she was matriculating with the class of 2003 and the Rosenberg woman was greatly looking forward to finally getting her degree, and joining Tara as part of Sunnydale's workforce.

Not that Willow had any plans to work at the Magic Box, the occult store which Giles had sold to Ms. Maclay for a dollar after the blonde assistant shopkeeper had graduated from UC Sunnydale, and Rupert had been offered the position of Sunnydale High librarian again. The redhead had renounced ALL magic for the rest of her life after she had hit rock bottom with her addiction last year. So Willow was seriously considering starting her own computer consulting business one day, after sharpening up her old hacker skills...

"Hey."

Startled, Willow whirled around to see her former boyfriend standing there behind her. "Oz?"

"The one and only. Well, if you don't count the great and powerful version," the werewolf commented sagely.

"It's been a while," Willow tried but failed not to giggle over her ex's comment. "Where have you been? And what are you doing here?"

"Around. And checking this place out, before I leave town," Oz replied tersely, suddenly directing his gaze directly at his former girlfriend.

"What? Oz, you're leaving Sunnydale AGAIN?" Willow demanded, before she calmed down and regained control of her emotions. "All right, so when do you think you'll be back? I mean last time, you were gone for nearly six months!"

"I'm not planning to come back, Willow. At least, not in the way you're thinking."

Willow's didn't get that. "What?"

Oz began to explain, slowly and carefully, how he was relocating to Los Angeles on a permanent basis – apart from the occasional trip back here to visit his mother. "I'm gonna be working with Devon, officially."

"What, in his drug rehab clinic?"

"Part-time, yeah. But mostly I'll be with a support group for newly infected werewolves," Oz explained. "I've been hearing stuff lately from my ex, Veruca-"

"What? You're still talking to HER?" Willow's horrified voice suddenly became a lot more high-pitched. "Oz, she's a KILLER! She's-"

"She's a fellow werewolf," Oz cut her off firmly. "Someone who's learned her lesson, after Buffy almost killed her way back when. But the point is, Veruca mentioned how the LA werewolf population's been increasing lately. So, who'd you rather the newbies have as a role model – me or her?"

"Well, when you put it that way..." Willow reluctantly had to admit Oz had a point there. "But, but what about me? I mean, us. I mean, the old Scooby Gang! We, we need you here as well, you know," the redhead started to babble, somewhat embarrassed by her choice of wording.

"Willow? You don't need me anymore. BUFFY doesn't need me anymore," Oz said bluntly, which instantly made Willow uncomfortable.

Both of them knew how the blonde Slayer was always kinda prickly in Oz's presence, after all. Buffy had always had a no-killing-humans rule in place since Faith had done what she did during 1999; and even though, in the early days, Oz had tried to tell the gang that Ben was Glory and Glory was Ben, Team Slayer hadn't been able to accept or even remember it – because of that damned spell constantly stripping the knowledge from everyone's minds.

So from Buffy's point of view, Oz (with Spike's help) had killed a human being. Something which, combined with whole 'dumping Willow' issue, had resulted in Daniel Osborne becoming as much of an outsider in the group as Xander had been, during the last days of high school.

"Oz..." Willow started to say, even though she had no idea what to say afterwards.

"I've already said my goodbyes to Giles and Dawn," Oz said calmly, making no reference to Tara and Buffy; something Willow could not help noticing. "And do me a favor, Will? Don't be afraid to get in touch if anything even remotely apocalyptic takes place, and you need help. I'll email you my contact details." With that, Oz simply turned around and walked away, heading for his van without looking back even once.

( _STUPID! Stupid, stupid, stupid!_ ) Willow angrily chastised herself, wiping a stray tear away. She may have been deliriously happy with Tara now and left Boys Town behind her a long time ago, but Oz still occupied a special place in her heart. ( _This is what you get for not sticking up for him against Buffy – you don't even get a farewell hug from the guy you lost your virginity to! God, I thought I totally learned my lesson about this sort of thing, after what happened with Xander that night..._ )

Willow mournfully looked around at Sunnydale High 2.0, the memories of her first ever romantic crush and childhood friend abruptly rushing back to the forefront of her mind.

And for the first time in a long while, the young woman found herself hoping that wherever Xander was right now – he was in a better place than this, the way she and Buffy had always wanted for him to be.

* * *

><p><strong>Thick woods approximately halfway up a mountain, Pylea<strong>

**The same time**

Xander woke up with a terrible headache, and the knowledge that he was most likely in deep trouble. Keeping his eyes shut for the moment, the young man abruptly realized that he was tied to a tree...

"On the first day o' Christmas, my true love sent to me: a partridge in a pear tree! Oooh, no, a kitten, but that's even better..."

( _And no need to guess who tied me up anymore,_ ) Xander thought to himself sourly, as he opened his eyes to stare at the nutty female vampire – who was standing directly in the light of Pylea's two suns. Something Harris still had trouble accepting, after having chased his quarry to this dimension yesterday. "Drusilla."

"Oh, see the little goblin, see his little feet. And his little nosey-wosey, isn't the goblin sweet?" Drusilla sang the nonsensical song gaily, dancing around the forest floor – completely barefoot.

( _Yep, still as completely fucking crazy as ever,_ ) Xander thought resignedly. He looked around; his weapons were nowhere in sight. So he said to Dru, "I don't suppose you're gonna release me anytime soon, are you?"

"What? Release you? But the game's not over yet," the mad vampiress pouted at him. "You've been such a naughty li'l poppet – chasin' me for ever so long. Tangier, Marseilles, and even London Town! Poor, sad, friendless little mouse – 'specially after the big fat mouse tried to play mummies and daddies inside that 'orrible cage..."

Xander forced himself to show no emotion over what the deranged vampiress had picked up with her psychic antennae, regarding his time in that Joliet prison. "Well, if you're not gonna let me go, Dru – then what's the game plan?"

"Oooh, a new game? I like the sound o' that!" Drusilla said excitedly, before she took a ring out from one of the pockets of her dress – one that used to reside on Xander's right index finger. It was his passport home, courtesy of Wolfram & Hart; Lilah had given the ring to him after Dru had vanished through the interdimensional portal she'd created in a public library, and the evil lawyer had warned Harris not to lose it – or else his trip to Pylea would be a strictly one-way journey.

"That's mine," Xander said tightly, recognizing what the female vampire was playing with. Then he saw Drusilla swallow his ticket back home with a big gulp and he shouted angrily, "NOOO!"

"Oh, pooh. That tasted awful, kitten, like peas 'n soggy cabbage," Drusilla complained, rubbing her stomach.

That just made Xander madder than before. "So what now, leech?"

"Naughty kitten, manners!" Drusilla abruptly slapped Harris hard enough to make him see stars for a few moments.

"Manners? I'm actually being lectured on manners by a freaking VAMPIRE?" Xander demanded, struggling to get loose despite the pain.

"Manners gets you a long way in life, kitten, as well as a long way in death," Drusilla said primly – before she suddenly started prancing around the tree. "Oh, the places you'll go! The things you'll see, kitten! The future, the past, old friends long gone..."

Xander was able to accurately guess that Drusilla had just had one of her clairvoyant fortune-telling episodes. But unlike what she'd been expecting, Harris did not ask Dru for further details. If she volunteered them, that was her choice; but the ex-convict was the sort of man who believed that he made his own destiny, and he refused to let others dictate his course for him.

Suddenly Drusilla stopped carousing madly, and grabbed hold of Xander's head. Despite her prisoner trying to resist, she twisted his head back and forth as if looking for something. Drusilla closed her eyes, before she gasped and removed her hand. "Oh, how sweet!"

The vampiress then held up two fingers to hypnotize her victim. "Look at me..."

Xander knew what she was trying to do; Giles had told him about Drusilla's hypnotic powers not long after the Acathla incident, so he turned his head to look away, refusing to cooperate. But Dru didn't give up that easily, waving her fingers to attract the human's attention. "Mm-mm-mm-mm..."

The headache and the pain from her vicious slap just now started to take their toll, and eventually Xander was unable to avoid looking at her for one instant too long. Drusilla smiled victoriously, "Be...in...me. See with your heart..."

She covered his eyes with her hand, and when she took them away – to Xander's disbelieving gaze, Cordelia Chase was standing right there, wearing nothing but a skimpy blue bikini. The big-breasted brunette stretched lazily, giving him a perfect view of her 'assets' – before she leaned down and kissed him hungrily.

Despite the hypnotic illusion, Xander instantly knew something was wrong; his ex-girlfriend didn't kiss like that. He had made out with Cordy often enough to tell. So Harris started wrenching his head from side to side, trying to dislodge her. "Mmmmph-!"

'Cordelia' pulled back, looking annoyed. "What?"

Xander just stared at her, trying to separate lies from the truth. Suddenly 'Cordelia' morphed back into Drusilla, as the spell was broken and the 'one who sees everything' perceived the vampiress standing before him once again.

Xander bared his teeth into a silent snarl, ( _Nice try, you undead witch, close but no cigar! Oh, you're gonna regret trying to look like Cordy...because now I'm REALLY mad!_ )

Indeed, it was as if Drusilla was able to read Xander's mind as she started staring at the former Scooby in dismay. "No..."

"What?" Xander demanded, quickly getting his emotions back under control.

"No, no, NOOOO!" Drusilla abruptly screamed at the top of her lungs, making Harris wince; he suspected that her ear-shattering outburst would more than likely attract the attention of the local demons, who treated anyone that looked human as 'cows'. In other words mindless slaves, chattel, things to be bought and sold for hard labor.

"It's all wrong, it is, no, yes..." Drusilla stammered, before turning to glare at Xander. "This is all YOUR fault, kitten! You should've stayed with that demon girl at the dance all night, but you DIDN'T! Now it's all different, except for – oh, my precious Spoike...it burns, it BURNS!" Drusilla hollered all over again, feeling her childe's pain (thanks to his brand new shiny soul) all the way across the incredible gulf spanning the two realities.

"Could ya keep it down a little? This is a demon dimension we're currently in, remember. If you don't watch out, the locals are gonna catch you and put one of those slave collars around your neck. 'Cause let's face it, you look just as human as I do," Xander sent the crazy vampire a small smirk, figuring he had nothing left to lose – so why not play the same sort of mind games her sire had played on him, way back when. "And less than ten seconds after you open your mouth? Your owner is gonna use that collar to blow your head apart."

Drusilla roared furiously, and her inner demon finally came out to play.

Now, as the Fang Gang would have known in a different reality, things were either black or white in Pylea; there were no shades of grey possible. The metaphysical laws were such that you were either one thing or another here; and so, upon letting her demon surface, Drusilla's human form morphed into a completely demonic one.

Her body turned all green and bumpy, the thick face and forehead framed by almost horn-like protrusions, while Drusilla's hands and feet turned into claws and her fangs lengthened considerably. The vampire demon, known as the Van-tal in this dimensional neck of the woods, finally stood before the human in its purest form possible.

( _So THAT'S what a vamp looks like without the human camouflage,_ ) Xander realized numbly, still tied securely to the tree. Unbidden, another thought then crossed his mind. ( _If only Buffy coulda seen this back in high school..._ )

The female Van-tal demon, still wearing that incongruous-looking Victorian era dress, suddenly started sniffing the air, its yellow eyes locked onto Xander's throat.

( _Oh, CRAP!_ ) "Drusilla?" Xander said pessimistically, already starting to resign himself to death. "I just want you to know-"

But then the Van-tal whirled around, its attention transferring elsewhere and the demon subsequently ignoring Xander completely.

"-that you're the craziest bitch I ever met," Harris finished up in surprise. "What the hell...?"

The Van-tal continued to thoroughly ignore Xander, focusing upon a young woman not far away who was dressed in rags. The wild and dirty-looking brunette had a leather pouch by her side, into which she had dipped her hand; and now the woman's balled fist was dripping with blood, which had instantly attracted the blood-drinking demon Drusilla had become.

In a flash the Van-tal was off and running, chasing after the escaped slave. But the girl was smarter than the demon, whose human intelligence had been subsumed by the instincts of the soulless beast; Drusilla was led straight into a trap, one that crushed her demonic head. This in turn caused her undead body to explode into ashes.

Then the brunette, whose name happened to be Winifred 'Fred' Burkle, came up to Xander and asked him, "Are you real?"

It was a somewhat unconventional greeting, granted; but this was, however, also the start of a truly beautiful friendship.

* * *

><p><strong>Wolfram &amp; Hart law building, Los Angeles<strong>

**September 14th, 2002**

Lilah Morgan frowned, staring at the report on her desk. According to the firm's psychics, Drusilla had finally been eliminated yesterday – that little punk she'd chosen to clean up Holland's mess had, at long last, finished the second half of the job he'd started over a year ago. Despite all the time it had taken, his accomplishments reflected well upon her, of course...

What WASN'T fine and dandy, though, was that Harris hadn't shown up where he should have after his assignment had been completed. Namely, the lethal gas chamber Special Projects maintained for situations such as this – which was where the Wolfram & Hart ring she'd given him would have deposited the dim-witted moron, after he used it to return to Earth.

( _There's only two viable possibilities,_ ) Lilah mused to herself, wondering how exactly to close out the file. ( _Either that undead bitch took the stupid bastard with her when she was dusted, or else he lost the ring – and now, Harris is stuck in Pylea. He's either dead, or a slave, or maybe even both... _)

Smiling, Lilah typed in a few lines of text on her PC and thought to herself, ( _Well, whatever the outcome, it's still a win-win situation for me! Now, what else was on my agenda for today? Oh, yes – dealing with Angel and his little band of useless do-gooders, as usual. Plus presenting some commendation or other to that scientist over in the R&D division – what was his name again? I think it was Knox or something..._ )

* * *

><p><strong>Outside the Chase residence, Los Angeles<strong>

**January 9th, 2003**

Timothy Chase was in a fairly good mood, as he screeched to a halt alongside his cousin's house in his big red BMW. A twin of the vehicle Cordelia used to drive a few years ago, minus the personalised 'QUEEN C' license plate of course.

Ever since 1999, Tim's life had only gotten better and better; for example, these days he was earning a six figure salary. Mr. Chase was also a twenty-something high flier who was into the latest Hollywood bars, meaningless sex, and no significant personal relationships to speak of...

...apart from one exception.

It had been nearly three and a half years now since Tim had rescued his female cousin from the horrors of abject poverty, and assisted her in trying getting her life back on track. Thanks to his aid, Cordelia had gotten parts in a few low-budget cult movies; and while the films themselves had received horrible reviews, every movie poster had had Cordy's air-brushed chest and face prominently on display. Doubtless, that was why she'd been offered a co-starring role in a semi high-grossing movie last year.

But all the job offers since then had consisted of parts for bimbos and scream queens, and nothing approaching a serious role in a Hollywood blockbuster – which had finally led Cordelia to realize that being a movie star simply wasn't what she'd been meant for in life.

Or so Tim had previously believed, as he used the key Cordy had given him to enter the house...

The young man stopped dead, as he saw the brunette standing on her couch holding up a golden ring. Her left arm was outstretched as Cordy quoted Lady Galadriel's speech to the inanimate object, straight out of the Lord of the Rings movie. Thunder and rage filled Cordelia's expression, as she attempted to bury herself in the part.

"And in place of a dark lord, you shall have a queen! Not dark, but beautiful and terrible as the dawn! Treacherous as the sea! Stronger than the foundations of the earth! All shall love me and despair..." the one-time Queen C proclaimed, before she suddenly realized she was no longer alone.

Cordelia looked back at the ring in her still-outstretched hand and released an awkward chuckle, before letting her arm swing to her side and stepping down from her couch. "Hey, Timmy, whatcha doing here?" she asked, embarrassment evident in her voice.

She was met with stunned silence.

"Timmy?" Cordelia said in sudden concern.

"I, I didn't know you could act like that," Tim said, approaching her in semi-awe. "And for the last time, DON'T call me Timmy!" the man suddenly growled.

"Whatever," Cordelia said with a smirk. "Like I said, what are you doing here?"

"What, I can't come over and wish you happy birthday?" Tim asked, calming down and putting his briefcase down on her coffee table. "Granted, you're no spring chicken anymore."

"Hey! I'm only twenty-two years old!" Cordelia huffed at him angrily.

"And yet, when we were kids – who was it who said that you were old and wrinkly, by the time you hit twenty-five? I THINK it was one of us present in this room, and I'm pretty sure it wasn't me."

Annoyed, Cordelia picked up a leather-bound sheaf of papers and threw it at Tim's head. Her cousin caught it, however, and read the title on the cover. Eyebrows raised, Tim said to Cordy, "_Cassandra: Tales of a Cheerleading Demon Slayer_?"

"Gimme that," Cordelia rushed over and grabbed the manuscript away from him. "I'm still waiting to hear back from my agent about whether or not it'll be published!"

"You've decided to become a writer? So, what's the book about?" Tim looked somewhat surprised.

"Well, basically, it's the story of a popular, fashionable high school cheerleader who constantly saves the world in between football and basketball games, with the help of her geeky yet useful friends," Cordelia replied.

Tim stared at her with narrowed eyes. "Wait a minute. Cordelia – did you actually write a book about what your life in Sunnydale was like, during high school?"

"NO!" Cordelia shouted angrily. "God, you think I'm gonna be announcing to everybody that I have like no imagination, doing something like that? That I'm just leeching success off of the lives of the people I knew back then, rather than earning it myself?"

"Oh. So, what exactly have you done then?"

"I've used the basic concept that was the focus of our lives, namely the vamps and demons, and created my own characters and situations to fit the roles I needed," Cordelia said haughtily. "Sure, some people on the Hellmouth, like a certain blonde and redhead – they may not like how I've written two of the characters that form part of the core group. But hey – if they don't like it, that's THEIR problem!"

Tim sighed, "Whatever. Anyway, I came here today for a reason." He went over to his briefcase and pulled out a thick yellow manila envelope. "Happy birthday, cuz; I hope you like it."

Intrigued, Cordelia tore open the envelope – and then her eyes almost literally bulged out of their sockets as she read what was on the papers inside. "This is a joke, right? I mean, you couldn't have POSSIBLY..."

"...bought your old house in Sunnydale, and put you down as my tenant?" Tim shrugged. "Why not? Because the company's had a pretty good financial quarter, and my Christmas bonus this year didn't suck at all. And the house's previous owners from Nevada, they didn't last long in that town! Besides – I spent a lot of time there when we were kids. It's a good investment property, if nothing else, and you deserve to get back the house you grew up in."

Squealing like a little girl whose birthdays had all come at once and hugging Tim intensely, Cordelia FINALLY felt like her life was returning to normal – like it had been before she'd learned her father was a no-good tax cheat, and her mother was a lush just waiting to happen.

And before she'd learned that her ex-boyfriend, whom she still had feelings for, was mostly likely dead or vamped or whatever...

* * *

><p><strong>Retail department store, Stockholm<strong>

**September 10th, 2003**

A suppressed SIG-Sauer P226 pistol in one pocket and a remote control in another, Warren Mears watched one of his custom-made robots approach the security detail surrounding the Swedish female politician marked for death.

It had been quite a while now since Sunnydale, and Warren's recruitment into the Order of Taraka by Patrice. Putting his old life behind him, Mears had taken to the assassination work like a fish did to water; passing the various tests and evaluations of the Order with flying colors. That was why Warren now had fifty-four confirmed kills to his name, and he proudly wore the ring with the Order's symbol on it.

This latest job, the death of a woman who was a sure thing for the office of Prime Minister in the upcoming election, definitely required the specialist touch. It wasn't easy taking on the Swedish Security Service, so Warren had given the matter careful thought; and he had come up with a plan that required both his unique skills and his personal presence.

The robot had come a bit too close, and so the politician's bodyguards withdrew their weapons. The chief bodyguard was about to say "Stop or I'll shoot!" – but at the last moment, Warren pressed a button on the remote control.

BOOOM! The human-looking robot exploded, filling the air with flames and deadly shrapnel. Alarms immediately started to go off all over the department store, as the sprinkler system activated and complete chaos was unleashed all over the place. Many people started to yell and scream, assuming it had been a terrorist attack of some sort (9/11 hadn't been all that long ago), and then everyone started to run for the exits.

As Warren had expected, the politician had not been killed by the explosive force of the blast. Two of her bodyguards had made the ultimate sacrifice and shielded her with their own bodies, to make sure she lived. The rest of the security detail then quickly dragged the woman up and away, heading for the nearest exit.

Unfortunately, though, Warren had correctly anticipated which direction they would go in. Pressing another button on the remote control to unleash an electromagnetic pulse, in order to fry all of the store's security cameras, Warren then brought out his silenced weapon and took careful aim despite all the screaming store patrons...

PHUT! A big red blotch appeared on the politician's forehead, as the 9mm bullet blasted its way through flesh and bone – the Tarakan assassin's aim was deadly accurate, and the victim's soul quickly departed to go meet its maker.

Three other silenced gunshots erupted from the P226, as the bodyguards were methodically murdered – just in case they'd gotten a glimpse of the hired killer. Warren then did something which might have sounded completely amateurish, but was in fact quite professional; he simply dropped his weapon onto the floor, and left with the crowds.

There was no serial number or fingerprints to trace, after all, and the shooting had lasted less than five seconds. There had been no nearby witnesses – and what with his lack of distinguishing features, the odds that anyone who had seen the American killer's face today would remember it during the police investigation were astronomical. Like any good assassin, Warren had the ability to melt into any crowd, and soon enough he was outside on the street – running within a group of people to maintain his cover, before slowing down and making his way towards his unmarked car.

"Were there any problems?" Patrice asked her former protégé, starting up the vehicle as soon as Warren got inside.

"None," Mears replied calmly, as the Volvo sedan headed for the Order's safehouse in order for him to avoid the fallout from the assassination – before eventually leaving the country.

TBC...


	5. Homecoming

See Chapter One for disclaimer and details. Welcome back to the fic! Gracias to everyone who's been reviewing and sending feedback, needless to say it's much appreciated. Please, keep it up! Now just for the record, this is the last chapter to involve major time skips; I promise, from this point onward, everything is gonna be happening in live-action format. Basically I'm skipping the events of BtVS season 7 and AtS season 4 (2002-2003) entirely, as in this 'verse almost none of it happened, since Buffy never died and Connor was never conceived; i.e. no Bringers, no Potential Slayers, no Turok-Han, no seal of Danthalzar, no Slayer scythe and no First Evil. Ditto no rocky Beast, no Rain of Fire, no Permanent Midnight, and no Jasmine (at least not yet; her plans may have been delayed but not necessarily derailed) over in Hell-A. As for the events of AtS season 5, because Angel never took over the local branch of Wolfram & Hart, some but not all of that stuff has happened (I won't call what's happening in Sunnydale at the same time 'season 8', as it'll cause confusion with the comics – bleagh). So, hopefully, everything's now clear to you? If not, people, have blind faith in me and move on to...

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Five: Homecoming<strong>

**Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles**

**November 6th, 2003**

Angel slowly and methodically sharpened his favorite broadsword, doing his best to ignore how loudly Harmony was screaming at Spike not far away in the kitchen.

It was times like this when the Champion wondered whether he'd done the right thing, offering the nine-months-pregnant female vampire and the father of her unborn baby sanctuary here in the hotel. On the one hand, it helped having something so unprecedented (make that miraculous) close by so that Wesley, who was now the new boss of the detective agency, could investigate it to the best of his ability.

But on the other hand, Harry absolutely refused to enter the hotel while there was a hormonal vampiress living there – despite the Vision Girl having become part-demon herself nearly two years ago, in order to survive the cumulative brain damage which the visions had caused her.

Angel winced as Spike started yelling at Harmony, obviously having had enough of the blonde woman's rants. To the undead detective's mind, William the Bloody obviously hadn't changed much since his sojourn to Africa last year, despite what he'd acquired on the Dark Continent. ( _Still kinda hard for me to believe how the boy went off and won himself a soul, just so that Buffy would eventually fall in love with him,_ ) the Irish-born vampire mused absently.

( _I mean, Spike honestly believed it'd be as simple as that? And what were the odds he'd run into the son of that Slayer he killed, back in the 1970's! My opinion, he was just lucky that Buffy let him leave town in one piece after agreeing to remove that chip in his head..._ )

"Hey," a familiar male voice said from the front doors of the lobby, as Angel stopped sharpening his sword and turned around.

"Hey," Angel greeted Oz, as the werewolf strode towards him. "What's up?"

"It's that time of month again. I wanted to see if Nina could use the cage in your basement," Oz replied. The female werewolf had been bitten during a night-time run last month, and after learning of the situation from Oz, the Angel Investigations team had helped save Ms. Ash from becoming dinner at an event hosted by an 'exotic food dealer' named Jacob Crane.

"Sure, shouldn't be a problem-" Angel started to say, when the sound of smashing dishes could be heard coming from the kitchen. "Yeah, sorry about that; Spike and Harmony are having...issues."

"Oh, that's nothing; you should have seen them back in Sunnydale. Apparently, Harmony set fire to all of Spike's stuff one night in retaliation for dumping her," Oz replied in his calm, laid-back way. "So I'd keep her away from any matches you've got around here, if I were you."

"Thanks for the advice. So, what's been happening lately?"

"Been kinda busy," Oz shrugged. "It's getting harder to split my time between helping you guys, and helping the werewolf newbies, and helping Devon's people at the rehab clinic. Sooner or later, something's gotta give."

Angel frowned. "Look, Oz, you know how much we all appreciate you helping out whenever you can, but if it's cutting into your time that much..."

"I'll prioritize. After all, this isn't high school anymore," Oz replied, a faraway look briefly appearing in his eyes. "Gotta admit, things were a lot simpler then."

Angel shook his head emphatically. "Trust me, it just seems like it. As I recall, there was only one period of complete calm roughly six years ago. It was in January, not long after Christmas – I was with Buffy, you were with Willow, Giles was with Jenny Calendar..."

"You left out Xander and Cordelia," Oz pointed out a few seconds later, with a slight hint of something that could have been amusement. "They were part of the group then, remember?"

"Oh, I haven't forgotten," the ensouled vampire suddenly grimaced. "How could I have? Those two could never get over the fact that Buffy and I chose each other, rather than them. Well, wherever they are now, hopefully they've had enough sense to live a normal life. Although in Xander's case, I kinda doubt it; that whole 'demon magnet' thing, as Willow once put it."

"How can you be so sure that Xander's still alive?" Oz challenged his undead companion, recalling that last week of high school with crystal clarity.

"I still visit Faith every month or so, and she swore to me that no one in the Mayor's camp ever saw him again after Prom night. Plus, she mentioned that after Wilkins died, the Order of Taraka would have dropped the contract on Xander's life," Angel explained. "No one ever bragged about killing the man in Willy's bar after he disappeared, either-"

"You really think Faith can be redeemed?" Oz interrupted Angel, wanting to redirect the topic of conversation. Even after all these years, he still felt guilty about all the student deaths and injuries he'd held himself responsible for at Graduation.

"Yeah. Because Faith's stayed in that Stockton prison for nearly three and a half years, even though she could have broken out of there any time she liked," Angel nodded. "I think she'll serve out her full sentence to try to make up for everything she did – the people she hurt, and the two men she killed."

"Twenty-five years to life," Oz shook his head, recalling what the Fang Gang had once told him about the rogue Slayer. "That's a long time to try to atone."

Wesley chose that moment to run into the lobby from his private office. "Angel-? Ah, Oz, you're here as well, good. We'll need all the manpower we can get on this, especially since it's scheduled to take place tonight!"

"What's going on?" the former high school musician asked, as Angel turned around and shouted Spike's name.

"The scrolls of Aberjian," Wesley lifted the ancient-looking papers in his hands, the same scrolls which contained the shanshu prophecy. "Angel, do you remember what we learned a few years ago, a-about the Beast of Amalfie?"

"Sorry, Wes, but no. Could ya remind me about the specifics?" Angel asked.

"The Beast of Amalfie-" Wesley started to stay.

"Bloody hell, mate, what do you want?" Spike interrupted as he finally showed up, looking at Angel in an uninterested way. He didn't deliberately ignore Oz; but he had little use for the werewolf despite his new ensouled status, because Spike couldn't completely forget the past any more than Oz could.

"Spike, do you mind? I was talking about something very important!" Wesley admonished his undead compatriot.

"Well, no need to get yer knickers in a twist 'bout it, Percy," Spike said, rolling his eyes. "What's up, then?"

"The Beast of Amalfie," Wesley resumed his lecturing tone. "I've cross-referenced, checked and double-checked, and even consulted with Mr. Giles about this. There's no doubt about it; that razor-toothed six-eyed Harbinger of Death is due to rise tonight, in Reseda. We have to stop it, or it'll annihilate most of southern California!"

Angel abruptly recalled that day in Harry's apartment when Wesley had first spoken of this particular prophecy. It was the same time the ex-Watcher had spoken of what the shanshu would really mean for him one day. "Yeah, I remember what you're talking about now. So, uh, you're sure it's not gonna show up in Tarzana?"

"Yes! Absolutely!" Wesley hurried over to the weapons cabinet. "All of you, grab a weapon and let's go. I've got the exact coordinates where it's going to rise, but we have to hurry!"

All four men proceeded to arm themselves and made their way outside to Angel's convertible and Oz's van, the vehicles then quickly heading off northwest. There was no time for goodbyes to Harmony, due to the urgency of the situation; and so, thinking she'd been abandoned yet again, the undead blonde set fire to Spike's "Sex Pistols" music collection...

Later that night, within a public park – an ugly-looking beast, roughly the size of Oz's van, crawled out from a massive sunken hole in the ground. It had started to rain by that point, and the heavy downpour made the ground slippery and the fighting precarious for the white hats.

Angel started fighting the Beast alongside Spike, old instincts surfacing from two decades worth of various battles fought together; both vampires darted in close, in successive movements, trying to distract the creature so that either the human or the werewolf could get in a killing blow. Unfortunately, the Beast of Amalfie was smarter than that, and gave neither Oz nor Wesley any such opportunity.

Spike suddenly lunged for an apparent opening. But in a blur of movement, the Beast's tail smacked him hard into a nearby tree. "AGGGGHHH!"

"Spike!" Angel leaped over the tail, and ran to check on his grandchilde. The blow had been powerful enough to crack the tree trunk, and even though Spike wasn't crippled, Angel could see that he was definitely hurt with a number of broken ribs. "Damn it! Stay here-"

"Like hell I will, Peaches!" William the Bloody roared, getting up despite his injuries and making his way back towards the Beast. Silently cursing, Angel rushed ahead hoping that Spike wouldn't get himself dusted – for his unborn son's sake, if nothing else.

Not far away, the Beast pinned Wesley beneath one of its huge paws, and both vampires heard bones crack as the demon brought its massive weight to bear down upon the human's chest. The next moment, though, Werewolf Oz roared and leapt upon the Beast, distracting it from its murderous task.

Angel managed to stab the Beast through the foot using his sword, its green blood spraying everywhere. The six-eyed creature stepped off of Wesley with an indignant howl as Spike dragged the human aside, and the Beast slashed Angel across the chest for daring to attack it that way. The vampire staggered backwards, the pouring rain hitting his bloody chest...

...and then, just as Werewolf Oz attacked the Beast again, something very unexpected happened.

If Wesley had checked the Book of Kelsor earlier on, he would have known that the Beast of Amalfie shared something in common with Mohra demons – namely, its veins contained the regenerative 'blood of eternity'. There was a brief flash of white light, as the Beast's blood mixed with Angel's; and just like that, the inner vampire demon was gone and Angel's human physiology was restored.

The shanshu prophecy had been fulfilled.

"I'm alive!" Angel panted, not quite as amazed as he'd been four years ago when this sort of thing had happened the first time. But then the ex-vampire realized this was no time to celebrate what had happened; they were still in the middle of a deadly battle with the enemy.

"Oz, Spike! Try to drive him towards the tree line – I've got an idea!" the now-human Angel shouted.

Although the vampire and the werewolf didn't get it, they nonetheless obeyed the shouted command. And so, a short while later, the Beast was neatly decapitated after Angel jumped down from one of the branches of a tree and with one crazy swing, he severed the Beast's head from its neck. The massive creature's body then collapsed to the ground, and quickly melted into goo – thick slime that didn't last long before the pouring rain washed it all away.

"Oh, my bloody ribs," Spike complained, now that the rush of battle was gone and the adrenaline had faded enough to make him realize just how damage the Beast had inflicted. "Everyone alright?"

"I-if someone could take me to the nearest hospital before I pass out, that-that would be most helpful," Wesley stuttered, the semi-naked Oz having returned to human form and supporting the injured Englishman.

"Angel, you okay?" Oz asked in concern, as the former vampire now smelled different to his wolfish senses.

Angel just smiled in sheer happiness, even as the rain continued to hammer him mercilessly. "I'm perfect. I'm human again, finally!"

* * *

><p><strong>1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale<strong>

**November 7th, 2003**

"Dawn! Breakfast! HURRY UP!"

It was a typical Friday morning in the Summers household, ever since Joyce had passed away. Tara and Willow would get up first, use the bathroom and get breakfast ready; Buffy would blearily make her way downstairs to drink her morning coffee, without which she would later terrify the poor students of Sunnydale High; and Dawn, who was no more of a morning person than her big sister, would bring up the rear. Hurriedly gulping down either toast or cereal along with a glass of orange juice, and then running off to try to get to school on time.

"You're gonna be late," Tara admonished the schoolgirl, after Dawn finally arrived from upstairs.

"It's only a half-day, I don't get why I couldn't just skip it," Dawn said grouchily.

"Less talk-y, more eat-y," Willow called out from where she eating her pancakes. "Talk with your mouth full, if you have to."

Dawn began to dig in, as Buffy came into the kitchen as well. The Slayer said, "Dawn, aren't you done yet?"

"No," the younger Summers woman said around a mouthful of syrup-y pancake goodness. "Why are you being such a slave-driver, anyway? Isn't today your day off from work?"

"Yeah, and?" Buffy briefly looked annoyed.

"I gotta go," Tara announced, dumping her plate into the kitchen sink and getting her keys to drive to the Magic Box. "Dawn, honey, have a good day at school..." she gave the female teen a quick kiss on the temple. "Buffy, I'll see you when you come over to train. Willow, I'll see you later tonight." The blonde witch shared a brief but passionate kiss with her soul mate, and then Tara vanished out the kitchen door.

"You're training at the Magic Box today?" Willow asked her best friend.

"Well, it's not like I can do it in the school library, like I did during the days of yore. Believe it or not, nowadays – Giles actually has students studying in there," Buffy smirked.

"What? Oh, is nothing sacred any longer?" Willow looked mock-offended. "Where does the next generation of the Scooby Gang meet to discuss the world save-age, if not there?"

"Kit, Carlos and I talk in Buffy's office, usually," Dawn answered the rhetorical question, inadvertently kicking over her backpack as she got up off her chair.

"Yeah, and it's a good thing Principal Wood – oh, what is THAT doing here?" Buffy suddenly shouted, spying the novel that had spilled out of Dawn's backpack onto the floor.

"Hey, gimme that back!" Dawn shouted as her sister grabbed her copy of Cordelia's book, _Cassandra: Tales of a Cheerleading Demon Slayer_.

"I can't believe you actually bought this, this, this – piece of GARBAGE!" Buffy said angrily, preparing to rip the book into shreds with her Slayer super-strength.

"BUFFY! You so much as damage ONE page, and I'll make you pay for another copy!" Dawn shouted, causing her big sister to stare at her in complete amazement. "I bought that book with the money I earned from working at the Magic Box over the summer! It's mine, not yours, so hand it over. Didn't Mom ever teach you to respect other people's property?"

"Respect? RESPECT?" Buffy shouted, as her temper began to kick up into high gear. "You wanna see how much I respect this piece of horse hockey?" Infuriated, Buffy then carried through on her threat and tore the hardcover book apart.

"DAMN IT, BUFFY!" Dawn screamed, incensed over her sister's actions. "That cost $29.95 of MY money-!"

"It's okay, Dawnie – I'll pay for a new copy, and get Buffy to reimburse me afterwards," Willow hurriedly interjected, trying to play peacemaker.

"No I won't!", "No she won't!" the Summers sisters said in perfect unison.

"Look, you better go, or you're gonna be really late," the redhead told Dawn, who, after looking at the wall clock, glared at her big sister, before she vanished out the same door Tara had gone through.

"Willow, what did you think you were doing just now?" the blonde shouted furiously. "Dawn's MY sister, so I'M the one who lays down the ground rules! And as long as she's living under my roof, Dawn is NOT gonna flaunt that damn book in my face!"

Buffy was really mad. Because even though it was a work of fiction, anyone who'd gone to school with the Scooby Gang would, upon reading the book, instantly know who Cordelia's characters were based on; and suffice it to say that the teenage girls named 'Babs' and 'Wendy' were not shown in the best possible light, even though the pre-teen named 'Donna' (Dawn's alter ego) had fared much better.

Buffy finally noticed Willow staring at her silently. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I'm not gonna make the same mistake with Dawn that I did with Oz, no way," Willow shook her head, ignoring her best friend's surprised expression. "Buffy, don't you remember what it was like when you were that age, and your mother couldn't understand what you were going through? Eventually, you ran away to Los Angeles for four months! And you don't want Dawn to follow in your footsteps, do you?"

"Willow, what are you talking about? This is so totally not the same thing!" Buffy protested. "I had to save the world and send the man I loved to Hell, and Dawn's kicking up a fuss over some stupid book! Something which, by the way, she completely wasted her money on!"

"You still don't get it, do you? Goddess, Buffy, you just said it yourself; it was HER money to waste. Sure, you don't approve of what Dawnie spent on it on; heck, neither do I. But it was still her choice, and you didn't respect your sister's right to make it," Willow insisted, disregarding the annoyed look on the Slayer's face.

"That's ridiculous," Buffy said crossly. She then held up the damaged novel. "I mean, just look at this thing! I honestly couldn't believe it, when I read what kind of hooey Cordelia came up with!"

"Neither could I," Willow confessed with a sigh. "I mean – casting herself as the Slayer, paying for Giles to get everything he needed to be independent of the Council, not to mention Cordelia's character using guns with carbon-based bullets a-a-and C4 explosives..."

"Plus, she put me together with her ex, Devon!" Buffy said huffily, shaking the ripped book in her hand.

"Well, given how he's helping a lot of drug addicts get clean in LA nowadays, you – sorry, Babs – coulda done worse than that guy," Willow shrugged, again paying no attention to the annoyed look on the blonde's face.

"But we're getting off-topic, Buff. My point is, whether you accept it or not – you crossed a line destroying Dawn's personal property that way. If it had been some porno magazine or whatever, that woulda been different; but it wasn't. Seriously, if your mom was still with us? Joyce wouldn't have overreacted the way you did just now," Willow told her friend candidly.

The computer expert then headed towards the kitchen door as she spoke over her shoulder, "Please think about it, Buffy. I'm heading for the local bookstore – and if you want, I'll tell Dawn you paid me back while she was at school today."

Buffy just stood there in the kitchen, feeling very much confused and alone after her best friend left. ( _Is Willow right? Did I totally overreact just now, all because I hated what that vapid whore wrote in that stupid book of hers? Oh, God, if I did – then how am I gonna make this right with Dawn?_ )

The Slayer sat down at the table, resting her head in her hands and feeling very stressed out. It wasn't easy trying to raise Dawn with no man of her own to hold onto; Buffy had no idea how her mother had done it for five years, after the divorce in Los Angeles. Sometimes, the young woman wondered whether or not she'd made a mistake in telling Spike to leave town last year...

( _No. That guy may have loved me in his own weird way, but I did the right thing because I've been down that road before; and any kind of office romance with a vampire, it's gonna end badly, _) Buffy thought morosely.(_ Besides, it wouldn't have been right to offer Spike false hope that way. Truth is, deep down I still wish with all my heart that Angel would become human..._ )

The front doorbell eventually rang, and Buffy dragged herself up to answer it. Blinking in surprise when she saw that no one was standing outside, the Slayer walked to the edge of the front porch...

...whereupon she saw her wish answered, with Angel standing in the driveway; bathed in the autumn sunlight.

* * *

><p><strong>Thick woods approximately halfway up a mountain, Pylea<strong>

**March 11th, 2004**

Eighteen months of living in Pylea had certainly left their mark on Xander Harris, as he, Fred and the warrior named the Groosalugg proceeded on their mission. A mission that involved travelling through the same stretch of woods Drusilla had briefly held her 'kitten' prisoner in, a year and a half ago.

Xander was much thinner now, the result of there never being enough food for everybody within the rebel human army. Harris was also much better at being able to run far and fast; to fight with fists and feet and whatever weapons were at hand; and being able to sing loudly, in order to cause the demons around here incredible pain.

Of all the armaments he'd brought with him from Earth, Xander had never thought his singing voice would rank so high up there in the humans' war against the demon priests of the Covenant of Trombli. And it had occurred to Harris once or twice, that if his ex-girlfriend Cordelia ever showed up in this dimension, what with her horrible singing voice – the demons would have instantly sued for peace, not wanting to be subject to that weapon of mass destruction.

"This place gives me the creeps," Fred said, unable to suppress a shiver as she glanced around at all the trees. She was no longer the semi-crazy and scatterbrained wild girl she had been the day Xander had first met her, but the former physics student still wasn't entirely what you'd call 'normal,' either.

"Fear not, Fred. I shall protect you, come what may," Groo said valiantly. The half-breed rather liked the human woman, and ever since he had turned against the Covenant, the Groosalugg had done his best to make up for all the human killings he had committed as the demon priests' enforcer.

( _That's Groo for you. Genuine white knight, in a way I never could be,_ ) Xander thought to himself, briefly recalling what Faith had said to him and Cordelia during Prom night. "Listen, guys, I'm gonna go scout ahead for a while. You two stay here – we don't want to run into any traps or anything..."

His two friends didn't like Harris going off all by himself, but they could understand the logic behind his proposed course of action. And so, Xander soon found himself passing the old oak tree he'd been tied to by Drusilla.

"I have been waiting for you to arrive here for quite a while, cow."

Xander froze in his tracks, staring at the tree in sheer incredulity. "Wait up, did – did you just talk to me...?"

"Indeed I did," the oak tree stated, the patterns on its bark rearranging to form a 'face' of sorts. "Are you hard of hearing, cow?"

"Hey, will you knock it off with that 'cow' crap?" Harris demanded irritably, already having moved past the strangeness of a tree actually talking to him. After nearly two years of exposure to this dimension's oddities, something like that didn't register on Xander's weird-o-meter for long. "'Cause in case you haven't noticed, we humans aren't mindless cattle!"

"Very well, human," the tree said in a supercilious tone of voice that made Xander believe it was just humoring him.

"So who are you, anyway?" Harris then demanded.

"I have had many names in the past, some of them since before your race was born. The Messenger of the Gods, the Vessel of Portents, and even the Soothsayer of Doom. However, you may call me the Oracle," the tree replied, its 'face' having a pompous look that made Xander want to hit it with his axe.

"Okey-dokey, Mr. Oracle. So, why exactly have you been waiting for me to show up here for quite a while now?" Xander demanded.

"From that very first day you arrived here from your own kingdom, I knew that this moment would come in one form or another," the prescient tree informed him. "You are aware that the Covenant of Trombli is in the service of the Wolf, Ram and Hart, are you not? That the priests here worship the ones you call the Senior Partners?"

"Yeah, so?" Xander spat out; he had developed quite the loathing for Lilah's employers since arriving in this world.

"I can hear the whisperings of the Wolf, Ram and Hart, if they so choose to allow it," the tree said solemnly. "And this day they have spoken of one of the Old Ones, who has escaped from the Deeper Well."

"The who? The what?" Harris asked in confusion.

"The details are not relevant here and now, human. All you need know is that you must return to your own world, and stop that Old One by any means necessary," the tree proclaimed, before one of its branches lashed out like a whip and Xander ended up with a thick splinter of wood in his right palm.

"HEY! What was that for?" Xander demanded, shaking his hand and reaching to yank out the splinter embedded within it.

"Do not remove that part of me which I have placed within you!" the tree shouted, its 'face' morphing into a scowl. "I have foreseen how you will need it to survive, in the days to come. In precisely what manner I do not know, but that you will need my assistance to prevail is certain. Now, prepare yourself for the journey home."

"Yeah? So what makes ya think I'm actually gonna obey orders from a talking tree – and one who's in cahoots with the enemy, at that?" Xander asked roughly. "Because to put it in a way you'll understand, it just so happens that I've put down roots in this world. And I'm not gonna give up my life here, just on YOUR say-so!"

"You FOOL! Do you not understand? If you stay here, all the worlds everywhere will eventually be crushed under the heel of the demon god-king, Illyria. Now GO!" the oak tree screamed at the human, before its 'face' morphed back into featureless bark.

With an ear-shattering blast of noise, a swirling black portal opened up within the floor of the forest, and began to suck Xander down into the depths of the abyss. Harris never even had time to scream as he vanished into the supernatural whirlpool, and it subsequently disappeared afterwards.

There was no longer any trace of the man who, in a few years' time, would be hailed by the Pylean humans as one of the original fathers of the revolution, and one of the lost heroes of the cause.

* * *

><p><strong>Playa Linda Beach, Sunnydale<strong>

**The same time**

If there had been anyone standing on the beach that Thursday morning, they would have seen the most peculiar sight of a rather large whirlpool forming out at sea, and a desperate male human dressed in crude leather garments trying to avoid drowning within the whirling maelstrom of water.

That same observer would have then seen the whirlpool vanish as abruptly as it had appeared, and the man that had emerged from within it slowly swim towards the shore, fighting to stay afloat despite his waterlogged clothes. The spectator would have also seen the swimmer eventually make it to the shoreline, only to collapse unconscious as he did so – his strength exhausted from fighting to stay alive, as the salty waves gently washed over him again and again.

But there was no one present to witness all these things, as it hadn't been all that long since dawn; and most residents of Sunnydale knew better than to go out too early in the morning, just in case they ran into something...unpleasant.

Thus, after his incredibly long five-year absence, there was nobody to welcome Xander Harris home.

TBC...


	6. Reflections

See Chapter One for disclaimer and details. Hello, and welcome to the latest chapter of the story! My deepest gratitude to everyone who's been reading, reviewing and sending feedback, you're all a true inspiration. Please keep telling me what you think, good or bad; feedback junkie that I am, I need to know what I'm doing wrong – or right, as the case may be! This was one of the hardest chapters of the story to write, actually; both in terms of moving the plot along, and deciding which characters to focus upon. Ah well, at least I finally answered the question I posed in the first chapter's author notes...

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Six: Reflections<strong>

**1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale**

**March 11th, 2004**

As far as the sleeping Buffy Summers was concerned, life couldn't possibly get much better than it was right now. Nonetheless – Angel was staring at the ceiling of their bedroom, the blonde's arm draped possessively across his troubled chest as he wondered, ( _What now?_ )

Four months ago, there had been no doubts in Angel's mind what to do after the Beast of Amalfie had been vanquished. Believing that the Powers had finally granted him his reward and ultimate heart's desire, the reborn human had officially handed in his notice to Wesley and told the Englishman that he was going back to Sunnydale. Spike could take over the role of the undead heavy hitter for the group; he, Angel, was heading straight for the Hellmouth and the woman he loved.

So the former vampire had wasted no time in rushing into the Chosen One's arms, despite Spike's scowling and muttering about 'why the Magnificent Poof always gets all the sodding breaks'. That morning, after Angel had rung on the doorbell, it hadn't taken long before Buffy's bedsprings had started creaking madly from the frantic lovemaking. In addition, the Slayer's screams of rapture had the neighbors wondering if the nutcases next door had finally lost it completely, and joined a depraved cult of some sort.

Tara had likewise wondered why Buffy had never shown up to train at the Magic Box that day – until she and Willow and Dawn had arrived home that afternoon to find the Slayer wearing nothing but Angel's shirt and a dreamy, satisfied expression on her face. After all the explanations had been concluded, both Willow and Tara had shared a knowing look before figuring they should start looking for their own place. Both women had known the situation had just changed dramatically, and that four (five, if you included Dawn) would definitely be a crowd around here.

Unfortunately, though, the honeymoon couldn't last forever.

The thing was that, over the past five years, Angel had become the sort of guy who believed he had a 'mission' in life, so to speak. Thus, it hadn't taken the former Champion long to start wondering just where he fit in, nowadays. Although physically fit by human standards, the former vampire had felt weak and helpless now that his supernatural strength was gone. Even though Angel still knew all the moves, he no longer had the firepower to back them up; and to his mind, it was damned embarrassing how the vamps and demons could duck past his sword and either knock him out or make him fall flat on his back during battle.

( _How the hell did Xander manage to keep doing this for three years?_ ) Angel wondered, recalling how during high school that guy had been as powerless as he was now – and yet Harris had stubbornly refused to give up fighting at Buffy's side...

...until she, Willow and Giles had forcibly evicted him out of the Slayage.

( _Is that what's going to happen to me, eventually?_ ) Angel cogitated uneasily, even as the sleeping Buffy burrowed ever deeper into his side. ( _The precedent's been set, after all. If I keep getting injured the way I did last month against that Polgara demon...one day, will Buffy order me to stay out of the fight for my own good?_ )

( _Giles does the research, Willow does the computer hacking, Tara does the magic side of things, even Dawn does her best to contribute as much as Buffy will let her – but what about me?_ ) Angel asked himself uneasily.

( _Where do I fit in?_ )

* * *

><p><strong>4 Parkview Crescent, Sunnydale<strong>

**The same time**

"Hey, c'mon, sleepyhead, rise and shine!"

Instinctively, Cordelia grabbed a pillow and threw it at Timothy Chase from within the confines of her bedcovers, mentally cursing her cousin for interrupting her beauty sleep. "Get out, you subhuman goon!"

"Oh, did I interrupt someone's pleasant dream?" Tim grinned, easily dodging the pillow and refusing to get out as ordered. He was on vacation and had a standing invitation to drop by whenever he wanted as thanks for purchasing the Chase residence, which was why Cordy didn't protest too much over Tim's unexpected presence in her room.

"Yeah, well, maybe," Cordelia said grouchily, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "What do you want, Timmy?"

"DON'T call me – oh, what's the use?" the young man threw his arms up in mock surrender. "Five years I've been banging my head against that particular brick wall. And you're never gonna change, are you? So, what were you dreaming about anyway?"

"An old boyfriend," Cordelia yawned, still not fully awake and not considering the potential ramifications of her answer.

Tim's eyes narrowed. "That useless piece of slime who cheated on you – Xander Harris?"

"DON'T call him that!" Cordelia growled immediately, waking up completely and turning the full force of her patented glare upon her cousin.

Tim sighed. He knew that this was a touchy subject with his cousin but he decided to keep going on anyway. "Look, Cordelia. I care about you – you know that, right? That's why I gotta say it; this is heading into professional shrink territory! You've been dreaming about this guy for half a decade, you're starting to become obsessed with him!"

"It's not an obsession," Cordelia said defensively. "It's just my subconscious dredging up old memories – what with the way Xander vanished that Saturday, and with my high school reunion coming up this Saturday night."

Tim frowned as he walked over to Cordelia's dresser and grabbed the invitation sitting there. "Your high school reunion, huh? But aren't these things traditionally held after ten years, not five?"

"This is Sunnydale, Timmy," Cordelia said cynically. "Think about it – exactly how many of us do you think would still be alive, by then? Whereas right now, over fifty percent of our graduating class is still able to make it to the festivities!"

Shrugging, Tim acknowledged the point and began to read the high school reunion invitation.

"**_Dear Sunnydale High Alumnus, _**

**_Can you believe that five years since your graduation has passed so quickly? Or does high school now seem like a century ago? Some members of the class of 1999 have definitely moved on to bigger and brighter things. Anya Jenkins is now a partner at Goldman Sachs, one of the most prestigious firms on Wall Street. Devon MacLeish has become the owner-operator of a number of drug rehabilitation clinics in southern California. Aura White is currently working as a model in Los Angeles, and has been featured in several major fashion magazines and TV advertising campaigns_-"**

"Sure – by sleeping her way to the top, that unscrupulous bitch," Cordelia interrupted her cousin, a look of disgust on her face as she contemplated her former friend. They had run into one another a few times at parties for the rich and famous, which had not gone well for anyone concerned.

Tim ignored the interruption and kept going. **"**_**Looking at yearbooks and old photographs brings back lots of memories, some good and some bad. Whenever news of you filters back to us here at our newly rebuilt campus, Sunnydale High School is excited and proud of your accomplishments**_**-"**

"Hold on."

Cordelia got up out of bed and grabbed the invitation out of her cousin's hand. She then started reading where Tim had left off, "_**As a graduate of the class of 1999, you are someone special**_– yeah, like I didn't already know that! _**Remember, there's nowhere you can go in life that you didn't learn how to reach at Sunnydale High**_ – oh, please, spare me! _**You are thus cordially invited**_blah, blah, blah, _**the reunion will be held**__**on**_ blah, blah, blippity blah, _**please RSVP by**_ blah, blah. _**So come on back to the old alma mater for a fun night's reunion and entertainment!**_signed, _**the Sunnydale High School Reunion Committee**_. So what?" Cordelia demanded.

"I think it might be a good idea for you to go to this thing," Tim replied guardedly. "If nothing else, it'll give you chance to network, get reacquainted with some old friends, maybe even meet a decent guy – someone who'll help you get over that asshole, Harris."

Cordelia couldn't understand why her cousin was acting so negative towards someone he'd never even met. "What is your issue with my high school boyfriend, Timmy? Why do you dislike him so much?"

"You actually have to ask?" Chase demanded in disbelief. "Cordelia, didn't you tell me how he was responsible for you nearly getting killed by that rebar?"

"Yeah, but I've thought about it over the years, and nowadays – I have to admit, that was more of an accident than anything else. It's not like Xander forced me to run up those stairs, or he deliberately weakened that piece of wood for me to fall through it and end up with a huge hole in my gut," Cordelia said uncomfortably, touching the place where the scar had been before the plastic surgery had gotten rid of it. "Okay, so the big jerk WAS responsible for my being humiliated for most of senior year, after everyone found out he had cheated on me. But like Dawn said, it wasn't exactly Xander's fault that Harmony overheard Willow and Buffy talking about what happened in the girls' bathroom, before she spread the news all over the school!"

"Which is another reason for you to go to this shindig, if you ask me," Tim replied, getting back to his original argument. "Those Buffy Summers and Willow Rosenberg people are sure to be there, right? So if you don't show up, they'll just laugh and say to everyone that Cordelia Chase didn't have the guts to show her face, that she was feeling guilty about the contents of her first novel and didn't want to confront the people she'd wronged in public! Or something like that, anyway."

Cordelia knew exactly what her cousin was doing, how he was resorting to emotional manipulation in order to get his own way. It was something Tim had done since they were children, an old trick she could easily spot.

Unfortunately, even though she knew the guy was trying to push her buttons to get her to do what he wanted, Cordy was unable to resist agreeing with the scenario Tim had described.

In her view, Buffy and Willow WOULD snigger and gloat that way if she didn't turn up to their five-year high school reunion.

"What the hell. I'll call the Reunion Committee; make sure they have my name badge waiting for me on the big night..."

* * *

><p><strong>Playa Linda Beach, Sunnydale<strong>

**A while later**

Oz parked his van and then got out, heading across the sand in the general direction of the main pier. He had just arrived from Los Angeles, after Harry Doyle had had a vision the previous night and told him exactly when he'd needed to be here.

Ever since Angel had become human and left the detective agency behind, Oz had found himself spending more and more time with the Angel Investigations crew rather than with Devon. That was why he'd been there for just about everything to befall the Fang Gang this year, including Harmony staking herself in order for her baby to survive when it was time for him to be born; the miracle child ending up in the hell dimension called Quor-toth along with Principal Robin Wood, who'd been manipulated to come to LA by a timeshifter demon named Sahjhan; plus the confrontation between Spike and William junior after the angry seventeen-year-old had returned to Earth, raised by the black man whose mother had been murdered by the at-the-time-soulless vampire.

( _Bad situation, no doubt about it,_ ) Oz thought philosophically as he walked along. ( _Still, at least I'm gonna have a break from all that for a few days, what with the high school reunion this weekend. I just wish Harry could have told me a few more details on who exactly it was she saw in her vision last night._ )

Unfortunately, all that the Vision Girl had foreseen was him dragging an unconscious male Caucasian out of the water this morning. Thus, when Oz finally saw the object of his quest, he quickly jogged over to drag the guy out of the water – before the werewolf finally got a glimpse of the man's face.

( _Whoa,_ ) Oz actually unleashed an expression of bewildered surprise. ( _Is that XANDER?_ )

The question was purely rhetorical; both sight and smell confirmed that this was indeed his old Scooby teammate. Frowning, Oz dragged Harris away from the shoreline and tried to wake him up, but to no avail. Xander seemed completely dead to the world, even though he was breathing steadily, and not even a light slap to the face was able to bring him around.

( _Hospital?_ ) Oz asked himself, before deciding otherwise. ( _No, better not; there might be complications afterwards. He did disappear five years ago without a trace, after all._ )

Making up his mind, Oz hoisted his unconscious companion over his shoulder and carried him back to his van. Making sure Xander was securely strapped in, the young man then drove to the Magic Box as fast as he could. This was still Slayer Central as far as Oz knew, and these days, the high school wasn't an option.

"Oz?" Tara said in surprise, as he came in through her front door supporting an unconscious individual whom she didn't recognize. Even though the witch and the werewolf had known each other for roughly four years, they weren't exactly close, due to the Willow factor – and Tara hadn't been expecting Oz to show up here today. Let alone be carrying someone who looked like he'd just stepped out of the middle of a castaway movie.

"Need to use the back room," Oz said as he carried Xander along. "Could do with your help..."

( _It's gonna be one of those days again, I can just tell,_ ) Ms. Maclay thought to herself with a sigh, as she finished up with the two customers who were present in the shop before she hung the CLOSED sign over the front window, turned the key in the lock and went around back to Buffy's training area.

"What have you, um – who's this?" Tara hesitantly asked.

"This...is Xander Harris," Oz said calmly, staring at the man who was now laying on one of the training mats.

Tara's eyes went wide. She recognized that name; it had been mentioned often enough whenever Willow talked about life during high school. "I, I thought he was dead or something?"

"Not according to Angel," Oz replied, recalling that conversation on the night of the battle with the Beast of Amalfie. "Harry had a vision last night, and sent me to the local beach to find him. I pulled him out of the water, but I couldn't wake Xander up, no matter what I tried. So, I brought him here. I was kinda hoping you'd have better luck."

Tara briefly stared at Oz in semi-amazement; she'd never heard him say so much at one time. "We should call Willow and the others-"

"Not sure that'd be wise," Oz interrupted her. "Least, not yet."

"Um, wh-why not?" Tara stammered.

"Not sure if anyone's told you, but Buffy, Giles and Will kicked Xander out of the group the same night he did his disappearing act. He might not appreciate waking up to find them standing over him," Oz shrugged.

Frowning, Tara decided to defer to Oz's judgment about that, at least for now. She examined the unconscious former Scooby, and noticed the splinter of wood in his right palm. The witch then began to remove it, but received a light electric shock for her trouble. "Ouch! What the..."

Oz began to do the same thing, before he got a similar electric shock. "Looks like that thing doesn't want to be removed."

The Wiccan got a look of determination on her face. She held up her right palm as a pink light formed on the surface of her hand, and then Tara shouted, "Vis zenobia!"

Unfortunately, the splinter of wood immediately glowed with a bright aquamarine light in response, and both Oz and Tara flew all the way across the room and slammed hard into the wall – out cold.

* * *

><p><strong>Maple Court, Sunnydale<strong>

**The same time**

Outside in a Lincoln Town Car, Warren Mears drove past the Magic Box as he took note of the CLOSED sign.

He had grown a beard to disguise his features, just in case he ran into the Sunnydale P.D. while he was here. The assassin was also slowly developing his plan to deal with Buffy Summers, once and for all.

* * *

><p><strong>Doctor Sparrow's surgery, Los Angeles<strong>

**A few hours later**

Lilah Morgan screamed in agonized pain, as she felt her insides being liquefied and her body hollowed out by the THING she'd been infected with.

Less than twenty-four hours ago, her life had been utterly normal – well, as normal as the life of the head of the Special Projects division ever got, anyway. But the previous evening Lilah had been knocked out, kidnapped, brought here and exposed to a huge, sandstone-colored sarcophagus whose iris had opened and blown a deadly gust of air directly into her face.

Ever since then, she'd been strapped down to an operating table while the transformation slowly but surely killed the woman. Openly weeping now, the evil attorney pleaded for somebody, ANYBODY, to save her – but to no avail.

Lilah's eyes abruptly changed into a crystal blue color, and her body briefly went into convulsions as her hair and the edges of her face became a royal blue color as well. Lilah's screaming, blackened soul was then finally and completely consumed by the fires of the Old One's resurrection as Illyria broke her bonds and stood up, examining the shell she now inhabited. "This will do."

The demon monarch quickly marched over to a nearby mirror. "A human? I thought they would have long died out by now..."

The door to the surgery opened, and the Wolfram & Hart scientist named Knox came in – before falling to his knees in pure joy. "It's you. It's really you! You, you're beyond perfect, beyond my wildest...my life is yours. I-I worship you..."

Illyria stared at him in contempt. "Of course you do, but cease your mindless bleating!"

"I'm sorry, it's just – I've been waiting so long for this. I've loved you from the first moment I saw you! You were pressed between the pages of the forbidden texts and I would stare at you for hours, locked in my room. My mom thought I was looking at porn..." Knox started to babble as he got up again.

Illyria impatiently yanked up Knox's clothes in order to examine his chest. "You are the Qwa'ha Xahn? My last one was taller."

"Uh, I-I may be shrinking a bit in the glory of your presence," Knox said in embarrassment, tucking his shirt back in. "Sorry about that."

"This world is not as I left it. Explain," Illyria commanded majestically, staring around at the doctor's surgery.

"Well, uh, that's the thing. It's been millions of years since you were sealed within the Deeper Well, and, um, humans rule the Earth now," Knox confessed timidly.

"WHAT? How is it that your kind came to control this world – the ooze which ate itself, when I was young?" Illyria bellowed angrily.

"Opposable thumbs. Fire. Technology. Killing anything that we can't understand or control, stuff like that," Knox tried to dumb it down for his so-called deity.

"Very well. If what you say is true, then I have work to do," the newly resurrected god-king decided.

Without another word, Illyria strode out of the surgery into the waiting room, where the ancient demon's sarcophagus sat waiting. The Old One ripped off Lilah's business suit, ignoring Knox's staring at her naked chest as the female slapped her palm onto one of the five crystals on the sarcophagus.

A thick, rubbery substance began covering Illyria's body, starting from the hand where she was touching the sarcophagus and creeping across the rest of her. Eventually, the Old One was completely covered in something approximating a red leather body suit before the rest of Illyria's powers were transferred from the crystals into her new shell. "I'm ready to begin. Escort me to Vahla ha'nesh."

But before Knox could do that, the forces of Wolfram & Hart finally showed up, machine guns blazing. Looking annoyed, with a gesture of her hand Illyria created an energy wave of some sort that, when it reached the S.W.A.T. team, altered time to slow their movements down to super-slow-motion.

Quite casually, Illyria killed every single member of the commando team as Knox hit the floor to dodge the flying bullets. Looking down at the bodies of the now-dead would-be assassins, the Old One said in disgust, "Is this all that challenges me now?"

Dragging Knox up from the floor, Illyria repeated her prior command; and so the evil pair set off across Los Angeles, heading to the site of a bank – one that contained Illyria's temple, which was currently out of phase with the normal time stream.

The Old One indifferently killed the security man guarding the site and stepped over his corpse in complete disdain, saying to Knox, "Your breed is weak and fragile. Are there ANY true warriors left in this world?"

"Uh, yeah, but is that important? I mean, you're about to open the gateway. Raise your army. Wash humanity from the face of the Earth and reclaim what was lost to you so many millennia ago, when the world was ruled by-" Knox simply could not avoid babbling in his so-called deity's presence.

"Be silent!" Illyria held her hands up in front of her face, wiggling her fingers and causing a gust of wind to blow past her, but no portal appeared to grant access to the Old One's temple stronghold. "The gateway is blocked."

"Oh, I was afraid of that. Wolfram & Hart probably threw a lock on it. They're big on things happening according to their timetable, y'see," Knox explained.

"The Wolf, Ram, and Hart? In my time they were weak, barely above the vampire," Illyria said contemptuously.

"Well, I guess they beefed up a lot since then. But not to worry; I brought my skeleton key," Knox held up his satchel. He then performed a ritual to open Wolfram & Hart's lock. "Showtime!"

"Any seats left?" Spike's accented voice rang out, as the bad guys whirled around to see the Fang Gang – Wesley, Spike, Harry, Nina and even William junior – standing there. "If not, I reckon we could make do somehow..."

"Who the hell are you people?" Knox demanded.

"A vampire, a human, a werewolf, a half-breed and a...I have never before encountered the sort of mongrel you are," Illyria said to the miracle child disdainfully, using Lilah's memories to identify the newcomers. "You come here, seeking a confrontation with me? One that you cannot possibly win?"

"I had a vision of what you're trying to do. Namely, raise your army, take over the world, and kill off anything with human blood in it. We're not gonna let that happen," Harry said, as the Vision Girl started glowing with white light.

"You are a servant of the Powers That Be!" Illyria slowed time down to a complete crawl again, before she strode forward and plunged her fist all the way through the half-demon seer's chest – killing Harry instantly, and utterly destroying the plans of that fallen PTB, once and for all.

"NOO!" many of the white hats cried out upon realizing what their opponent had done, once time resumed its normal flow.

In another dimension, the mercenary named Skip was killed by his pissed-off former employer in a fit of pique; but here and now, both Spike and his son charged at Illyria, before she effortlessly batted them aside and activated her portal.

Shooting Knox without a second thought when the Qwa'ha Xahn got in his way, Wesley chased after Illyria, diving through the portal at the very last moment in an effort to catch up with and kill the ancient demon living within the shell that had been Lilah Morgan.

* * *

><p><strong>Vahla ha'nesh, Los Angeles<strong>

**The next moment**

Wesley landed hard upon the floor on his belly, and his gun fell out of his grip. ( _Ow, ow, ow!_ )

Pained, he got to his feet as Illyria walked down the nearby steps commandingly, heading for the nave of the temple. The Old One looked back contemptuously and said, "You're too late, muck. My army will rise. This world will be mine once again..."

Head held high, Illyria proceeded to enter her stronghold – only to find the temple in complete ruins. All the columns were broken, and the statue of her original monstrous form toppled over. The entire place was as silent as a graveyard, as Illyria saw her army of doom reduced to nothing but dust and ashes.

"No. This cannot be," Illyria said in shocked disbelief, falling to her knees as she ran her hands through the sand and dirt. She started panting in dismay, "My legions are dead..."

"Just like Harry," Wesley said in sheer hatred, pointing his gun at her and opening fire. "Damn you to Hell!"

Unfortunately, the bullets simply bounced off Illyria's supernaturally thick skin and the Old One didn't even appear to notice Wes shooting at her. Finally, he ran out of bullets and threw the gun away in frustration. Illyria then stood up, and Wesley heard a noise reverberating nearby; he turned around and saw that the portal had been reactivated.

When he turned around again, the Englishman saw that Lilah (as he thought of her, for as yet Wes knew nothing of Illyria's resurrection) had vanished. So Wyndam-Pryce quickly headed for the portal himself, not wanting to remain stuck in this necropolis for the rest of his life.

By the time Wesley returned to his own dimension, though, Illyria had already left the City of Angels.

Giving Knox's cooling remains not even a second glance, the Old One left the bank...

...and activated another portal to head north, to where the Hellmouth had been millions of years ago.

TBC...


	7. Unexpected News

See Chapter One for disclaimer and details. Hello, and welcome. Not much to say today except thanks to everyone who's been reading and reviewing, please keep it up! And now on with the story...

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seven: Unexpected News<strong>

**A Place Where Nothing Need Be What It Seems**

**A Time Meaningless To Mortal Minds**

Xander awoke to find himself lying in a ditch somewhere, before he slowly got up and looked around.

The temperature was warm and the air fairly dry; it vaguely reminded Harris of his brief visit to North Africa, when he'd been chasing Drusilla all over the world. Not far away he could smell rice and corn, and the subdued aroma of coffee. ( _Where the hell am I?_ )

"Togo. Or as it's officially known, the Togolese Republic."

Xander whirled around, seeing a blonde woman dressed in white standing behind him. "Who the hell are you?"

The woman didn't say anything for a moment, as she shut her eyes and breathed deeply. "Oh, my. I'd almost forgotten that smell, you know – it's called La Pate, or akume according to the natives around here. When I was scouting demon clans in this part of Africa six years ago, I was surprised to discover just how much they loved that particular food."

Xander cocked his head to one side. "You scouted demon clans?"

"In another life, yes." The woman looked at her companion askance. "I can tell you're not really comfortable here..."

The scene suddenly shimmered, morphing into something completely different. Xander suddenly found himself standing on a beach, alongside an atoll channel. It was a tropical island paradise, with untouched sand and the deep blue waters of the Pacific Ocean visible not far away. ( _What the hell-?_ )

"Kiribati. This was my favorite place in the whole world when I was an ethno-demonologist – well, maybe apart from Uzbekistan," the mysterious blonde subsequently told Xander as she materialized close by his left shoulder.

"All right, lady, let's cut the tourist-y crap," Xander said angrily, clenching his fists and moving into a combat stance. "Who are you, and what is all this? And what do you want with me?"

"You don't remember me, do you?" the blonde asked somewhat sadly. "Well, I suppose that's not surprising. It was over three years ago, after all, and you only saw me for a few moments. Plus, you had your mind on other matters, once you got out of that Chicago jail."

Xander stared at her in a far more guarded way now. "All right, let's try old-fashioned good manners. Hi, my name is Xander Harris. And you are?"

"Harriet Doyle," the blonde replied with another sad look. "But everyone calls me Harry. I'm – sorry, I WAS – Angel's seer, his connection to the Powers That Be."

"You were Dead Boy's seer. Right. What happened? You finally came to your senses and quit the job?" Xander asked facetiously, trying and failing to recall this woman from when he'd been staking out the Hyperion Hotel.

"No, I died just a few minutes ago – when an evil ancient demon which had been reborn into the world murdered me," Harry informed Xander sadly, her white dress suddenly drenched with blood for about three seconds.

Xander stepped back immediately. "You're dead. Okay. So why are you talkin' to me? I quit the habit of talking to dead people after that nutsack Drusilla ended up dust."

Again, the scenery around them shattered and altered into something from nineteenth century London. Xander quickly recognized the old church he now found himself standing in – Dru had led him here one time, saying that this was where her 'Daddy' had found her in 1860. It had been just one episode amongst many, from when the young man had been in seemingly-endless pursuit of his undead quarry.

"You've forgotten what Drusilla said that day, haven't you?" Harry said to Xander sharply. "The day Ms. Burkle saved your life, eighteen months ago. Think back. What did that insane vampire say to you? Try to remember! It's vitally important."

"Really," Xander said distrustfully. "On account of I can't help wondering, why do you care? And why should I just take your word for anything?"

"Because, in a sense, it was your actions that led to my death at Illyria's hands."

That name was vaguely familiar, but Xander didn't have a chance to wonder where he'd heard it from as Harry went on, "During the night of your high school Prom dance – you defied both fate and prophecy, the same way you did when you brought Buffy Summers back from the dead. And as a consequence, you created new destinies for just about everyone you knew back then. If not for you, I would have been alive and kicking in South America right now – and your old girlfriend Cordelia Chase would be dead in my place."

Xander froze at hearing that, but again Harry didn't give him a chance to say anything as she went on, "But that doesn't matter right now. What does matter is that that tree calling itself the Oracle..."

The female ghost gently lifted up Xander's right hand, where the wooden splinter was again glowing with that aquamarine-colored light. "...didn't lie to you. It's a servant of evil, yes, but not a liar – and your presence is definitely needed upon the Hellmouth. Now, please, try to remember. I can't force you to recall what Drusilla said that day – but please, believe me when I say you must force yourself to do so," Harry finished up, staring directly into Xander's chocolate-brown eyes as he focused back on her.

Frowning, Xander stared at his ghostly female acquaintance. The blonde SEEMED sincere, not to mention kind of desperate, so eventually Harris decided to go with his instincts and do as she asked.

"Drusilla said..." Xander trailed off, trying to remember the exact words the crazy vampiress had used when she'd briefly gone precog on him. "She mentioned something about how manners get you a long way in life, as well as in death. As well as something about the places I'll go, the things I'll see...the future, the past, old friends long gone..."

"Exactly," Harry sighed in relief, grabbing Xander's right hand more tightly and a white light briefly encompassing the appendage. "Remember all those things, Xander Harris. Remember them for after Illyria comes to the Hellmouth – because if you fail to stop that Old One, she really will conquer and destroy all the worlds everywhere."

At that moment, Xander finally remembered where he'd heard Illyria's name from – before his entire world dissolved into white light, and he knew nothing more.

* * *

><p><strong>The Magic Box, Sunnydale<strong>

**March 11th, 2004**

Xander blinked, finding himself flat on his back – but a second later he was up on his feet, looking around in wary suspicion.

Harris did not recognize Buffy's training area in the back room of the magic shop, for the simple reason that he had never been here before. As quickly as possible, the young man scanned his environment – noting a couple of human bodies on the mats at the other end of the room, a man and a woman from the clothing.

Had Xander looked closer he would have recognized his old high school buddy, Oz, if not Tara Maclay – but instincts derived from living in a demon dimension made Harris decide to get out of this place right now, until he knew more about where he was and what was going on after that freaky dream he'd just had.

A door leading somewhere else was on the other side of the room, near the two unconscious people. A window leading outside into the daylight was right next to him, however. Deciding the shorter route of egress would be more preferable Xander quickly climbed up, opened the window and let himself out into the alley behind the Magic Box.

After he jumped down onto the ground Xander started coughing madly, as the airborne pollution of southern California attacked lungs that had gotten used to the pristine air of Pylea. ( _Sweet mamalooshin, where am I? Wherever it is it smells FOUL, like..._ )

The sound of a car horn blaring madly from not far away quickly brought things into focus for the interdimensional traveller. ( _...like the good ol' U.S. of A. Terrific!_ )

Finally getting his coughing under control, Xander forced himself to straighten up and proceed to the mouth of the alley. It took less than a second for him to recognize Sunnydale's Main Street and the rest of the old home town, as Harris began walking along Maple Court. Unfortunately, he also started receiving strange looks from his fellow pedestrians, regarding the crude Pylean garments he was wearing.

( _Shit. I must stand out like a frickin' sore thumb, dressed like this,_ ) Xander cursed, once the young man had realized the situation and he started to hurry. ( _And that sort of attention's the last thing I damn well need! I gotta go underground..._ )

"Hey! You over there, hold it! I got some questions to ask you..." a uniformed member of the Sunnydale Police Department suddenly shouted, spotting the strangely dressed human male and quickly deciding to drag him off the streets, as part of his job of trying to contain and cover up the Hellmouth weirdness in this town.

Xander spotted the Sunnydale cop shouting at him, and a number of memories flashed through his mind. Chief among them were Detective Stein and Patrice trying to kill him; as well as the Chicago P.D. arresting him for arson. The 'fight or flight' response was automatic and since he was currently unarmed, Harris started running down the street, uncaring of how loudly the policeman was yelling at him to cease and desist.

Not far away on Main Street, Cordelia again slammed her palm down on the car horn, infuriated at being stuck in traffic like this. ( _What's the matter with those people? Can't they get a damn move on? I have places to be, things to do-_ )

The buxom brunette was subsequently amazed when a dark-haired young man – someone who was WAY too thin for her taste, and whose clothing statement was far too ugly for Cordy to tolerate – jumped up and swiftly slid across the hood of her Beemer. In the half-second before her outrage over the damage to her car would have made the Chase woman explode with blind anger, her hazel eyes slid up to catch a glimpse of the offending cretin's face...

( _Oh my God! XANDER!_ ) Cordelia's mind shrieked in recognition of her former boyfriend, forcing her tongue to go still and slack; a miraculous thing indeed, here and now.

Rubbernecking madly, Cordy tried to catch a glimpse of Harris as he ran with amazing speed – for someone who looked that scrawny to her eyes, anyway – before the young woman performed an illegal U-turn and set off down the street, back the way she'd come.

For his part Xander ducked and weaved through the crowd of pedestrians, bowling over a few unfortunates who either couldn't or wouldn't get out of his way in time. There was no opportunity to be subtle, after all, what with that cop hot on his trail.

Even though he'd been away for five years, Harris still remembered Sunnydale's layout well enough to be able to head for the demon-friendly section of town, a place that would probably better suit his current needs. And once he was sure he'd ditched his pursuer, Harris came to a halt not far from Willy's Bar, huffing and puffing and trying to get his breath back.

A red BMW quickly screeched to a halt beside him, and the passenger door was flung open. "GET IN!" a vaguely familiar female voice shouted.

In a heartbeat, Xander recognized Cordelia's features. Without hesitation, he climbed into the car as the Chase woman roared off even before the door was fully closed.

"GET DOWN! You think I want anyone to see the weirdo riding in my car?" Cordelia hissed at her passenger, as Xander obliged by ducking down and getting an eyeful of those tanned, waxed, and simply incredible legs. Once upon a time, he'd known them well...

"Just stay down until I say it's safe to come up," Cordelia grumbled, deciding to skip her appointment at the beauty parlor for today and heading back to the Chase mansion. She still found it virtually impossible to believe that Xander – someone she had given up for dead, by now – was back, alive and kicking.

But then she had never been one to live in denial after her eyes had been opened to the real truth of this world, and Cordelia suddenly had a million questions she wanted to ask her ex-boyfriend.

* * *

><p><strong>4 Parkview Crescent, Sunnydale<strong>

**A while later**

Cordelia used the remote control to open the gates leading to the manor's driveway, and as soon as the BMW had disappeared from public view, she said to Xander, "All right, you can get up now. Nobody can see you here!"

Slowly, as if he didn't trust her reassurances, Xander got up to gaze at his surroundings. Feeling a bit stiff from how long he'd been crouching at such a painful and unnatural angle, Harris said, "You brought me here? I thought you didn't live at your parents' place anymore; the IRS evicted you way back when. So what's the situation?"

"Wha – THAT'S what you want to talk about? Xander, I don't believe this! Where the hell have you been for the last five years?" Cordelia shouted, her emotions quickly slipping out of control.

"Lots of different places," Xander answered quickly, looking around in concern. "Who else lives here now?"

"It's just me and my maid, Lupe, even though she has the day off – hey, wait a minute, DON'T change the subject!" Cordelia fumed. "Damn it, Xander – all this time I thought you must have been killed, or worse, and now I find out you just totally disappeared back then! You couldn't even be bothered to say goodbye to me? What the hell was all that about, doofus?"

"Hey, I tried calling you that night," Xander replied, even though his eyes were still roaming the estate looking for possible dangers. "But you weren't home and there was no machine, so I had to hang up and run for it."

"Run for it? Why? Damn it, Xander, what have you been DOING since high school-?"

"CORDELIA!" Xander suddenly shouted harshly, startling the beauty queen as he looked her right in the eye. "I want you to listen to me very carefully; I didn't come here to answer all your stupid questions, okay? I got into your car because I needed a place to lay low until sunset, before I go see Giles at his place. So can I stay here until then without the third degree, and also borrow some clothes off of you? And just so it's clear, if you say no, then I'm gonna leave straightaway – and odds are you'll never see me again. So what's it gonna be?"

Cordelia gaped at her former boyfriend, unable to believe he actually had the audacity to talk to her like that. A shrewd judge of character, Cordy could nonetheless tell that he wasn't kidding – Xander would leave, and without a second thought, if she gave him the wrong answer. So swallowing her ire, the Chase woman surrendered to the big jerk's demands and just tried to make the best of the situation.

"Alright, fine, you can stay – no questions asked. At least for now," Cordelia grumbled, throwing up her hands in disgust as both she and Xander got out of the car. "Look, why don't you get rid of the chamois look and go take a shower, while I find something suitable for you to wear? And then – my God, mister, but when was the last time you had a decent meal? You look like skin and bones, almost! Whatever it is you've been eating lately..."

"Actually, I ate a roasted demon lizard just yesterday," Xander informed her as Cordelia unlocked the front door on the mansion.

( _Roasted demon lizard? Is he serious? Oh. My. Lord. What the hell have I just gotten myself into?_ ) Cordy shuddered, as she closed the door behind them.

* * *

><p><strong>Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale<strong>

**The same time**

It was the end of the school day, and Dawn was sitting on the railing of the stairs leading down to the street. Buffy had told her she was going to be delayed today with the staff meeting, as was Giles, so she should wait outside for Angel to pick her up and take her home. To pass the time the human incarnation of the Key was re-reading her favorite book, _Cassandra: Tales of a Cheerleading Demon Slayer_.

The book had been in print now for about six months, and it had achieved some fairly good reviews. The publishers were still waiting to see just how well the first novel would sell before giving Cordy any advance money to write the sequel, which was tentatively titled _Alexis: Hunting The Wild Vampire_; but according to Cordelia's mini-website at www dot randomhouse dot com – she wasn't exactly famous as an author yet – the next novel was already a much-anticipated work-in-progress.

( _It's too bad how I can't tell Kit or Carlos that I'm actually a character in this book,_ ) Dawn briefly smirked as she turned to that section of the text where 'Donna' was arguing with her sister 'Babs' over how she was going to marry 'Adrian' one day; the character who was based on the one and only Alexander Harris. ( _I mean it's kinda funny reading how, back then, I practically worshipped the ground Xander walked on! Or at least that's the way Cordy saw it, anyway. _)

Dawn then focused on one of her favorite chapters in the book, and began to read.

_**Alexis, the devilishly handsome vampire with a soul, stared at the smoking, blasted ruins of the mall as Cassandra began to attack the few remaining shell-shocked demons and soulless undead.**_

_**To be honest, Alexis still didn't get it. How had that acid-tongued slip of a girl done this? None of her predecessors had ever come up with the idea of using explosives, of all things, against the enemy. But then Cassandra wasn't exactly a traditional Demon Slayer...**_

_**Alexis thought back to their first meeting; how the girl had initially been attracted to him, almost from the first moment their eyes had met in that demon-infested nightclub. But then, oh, how quickly that attraction had turned to revulsion once Cassandra had discovered that he too was a demon.**_

_**One cursed with a human soul, yes, but still a creature of the night. One of the things she was destined to Slay.**_

_**It had pained him to witness Cassandra's rejection after she'd figured out what he was; Alexis had to admit, the brunette vixen had definitely caught his eye. Had he been the man he was four hundred years ago, most likely Alexis would have asked her father for Cassandra's hand in marriage by now. But alas, he hadn't been human for over three centuries, and besides; the Demon Slayer was a product of the modern world, a female teenager who refused to let any man dominate her or give her orders in any way.**_

_**Tsk. These modern girls...**_

_**So Alexis had been forced to skulk in the shadows, and help however he could through intermediaries – namely Cassandra's friends; Adrian, Wendy, and Barbara (or Babs, as the blonde girl insisted on calling herself for some reason that Alexis was sure he would never understand).**_

"_**Donna!" Alexis yelled, catching sight of the little girl who had become separated from her sister in the aftermath of the explosions. He quickly leapt into action, delivering a punishing right hook to the soulless demon looking to drain her dry, before yanking the child aside. "Come on!"**_

"_**Alexis?" the dark-haired pre-teen mumbled, still dazed by the recent explosions within the mall.**_

"_**Adrian!" the vampire barked at the Demon Slayer's male friend, who quickly took Donna off his hands and delivered her to Babs – thus allowing Alexis to start fighting at the Slayer's side.**_

"_**Donna!" Babs hugged her little sister in sheer relief. The female teen then looked at her male friend. "You found her?"**_

"_**No, Alexis did," Adrian replied distractedly, looking out onto the scene of battle. He was worried about Cassandra's safety, and it showed, but all he said was, "Man, I'm glad that that vampire's on our side!"**_

"_**Me too," said Wendy, her eyes wide as she took in the vicious conflict.**_

"_**Same here..." Babs then thought to herself with a heartfelt romantic sigh, 'Ooh, that hunk would be sooo worthy of me...'**_

_**The blonde cheerleader, who was currently dating a musician named David, apparently didn't seem to have any problem with the concept of being unfaithful to her boyfriend...**_

"Hey, Dawn, you ready to go?"

Briefly disoriented, Miss Summers lowered the book and said, "Yeah, Alexis – I mean, Angel! I definitely meant to say 'Angel'. Sorry, I was just reading..."

"The one book which Buffy absolutely hates?" the former vampire smirked, before his expression turned serious. "Come on, Dawn; you must have read that thing at least a dozen times by now. Why? Why does it fascinate you so much?"

"Maybe it's 'cause it reminds me of when my mom was still alive," Dawn answered honestly, as they headed for Angel's black convertible. "And you have to admit, Cordelia's got quite an imagination! When I first bought the novel, y'know, I was expecting something like...well, Cordy sorta just copying what Buffy did in the past using a fake name of her own. But it's not like that; the book is all about her describing how different it all could have been! Like you never losing your soul, back when you were a vampire..."

Angel didn't say anything as he and Buffy's sister quickly left the Sunnydale High campus; those memories were still too painful for him to contemplate for very long. The events surrounding Buffy's seventeenth birthday – damn it, what SHOULD have been an expression of true love in its purest form, had become a nightmare of death and destruction after Angelus had initiated his four-month rampage against Sunnydale's citizens.

"Hey, where are we going?" Dawn suddenly asked, as the Plymouth went past Hadley Street. "This isn't the way home..."

"I know. We're just going to stop off at the Magic Box for a bit first," Angel said apologetically.

"Why? You think buying Buffy something from there will help her get over that lovers' quarrel you two had at breakfast this morning?" Dawn asked with a pointed look. Off Angel's astonished expression, she added, "Oh, please, I may be tardy – but I'm not deaf! Seriously, Angel, what's up?"

Angel stared at his girlfriend's kid sister, before reminding himself that Dawn wasn't exactly much of a kid anymore. ( _She's practically the same age Buffy was when we slept together for the first time..._ ) "Dawn – did Xander ever tell you how he managed to stay part of the group for three years, what with the way he used to get knocked down by the bad guys practically all the time?"

Dawn frowned and shook her head. "No, not really. But hey, I noticed how Xander always used to deflect attention from himself with all those jokes he used to make! And Buffy was a totally different person then; she hated being the Slayer, she just wanted a normal life – so she was willing to accept anybody's help during high school. But nowadays..."

"It's completely different, I know. Believe me, I've seen how Buffy does her best to make sure you stay out of anything even remotely...uh, Hellmouth-y," Angel briefly grimaced over his choice of wording, and how his vocabulary was becoming more 'Californian' the longer he was human.

"Tell me about it," Dawn said grouchily, even though she knew her big sister was just trying to look out for her as best as she could. "Why the interest about Xander, Angel?"

"Well, it's just that lately...I've been wondering where I fit in," the man confessed. "I mean, that job I had teaching History at UC Sunnydale didn't last long; everything associated with academia either bored me to tears, or else drove me insane – having to deal with those university bureaucrats and their delusions of power, it was just..."

"Sounds just like dealing with the teachers at Sunnydale High," Dawn wisecracked, but then she blushed as Angel sent her a Look. "Sorry. So I guess what you're trying to say is, you've discovered how a normal life isn't exactly all it's cracked up to be? What, does that mean...you're gonna break up with Buffy or something?"

"NO! No, Dawn, please don't think that," Angel said hastily in order to reassure her. "I love your sister; I always have, and always will. In fact, I'm planning to ask Buffy to marry me..."

"YOU ARE?" Dawn squealed excitedly, turning to face the man sitting next to her.

"Well, I didn't want to rush things too much. We haven't been together for all that long yet," Angel explained. "But yeah, I'm planning to propose once I get my own life fully straightened out. Just keep that under your hat for now, though, okay? Don't spoil the surprise or anything, that's all I ask."

"Oh, totally! You can trust me, lips totally zipped here," Dawn drew her fingers across her mouth to illustrate her point. But on the inside, the adolescent female was still bubbling with excitement. ( _My God, a wedding! Hopefully, there's gonna be lots of cute eligible boys there. Willow's gonna be chief bridesmaid, of course, but I'm sure Tara and I will still have lots to do as bridesmaids in our own right. Giles is, like, certain to walk Buffy down the aisle, just like when she and Spike got engaged that one time, and – wait, who's gonna be Angel's best man? It's not like he has a lot of guy friends around here – maybe he'll ask that Wesley person from LA..._ )

"We're here," Angel said as he guided his car to a stop outside the Magic Box. The ex-vampire then started to look concerned as he and Dawn got out and walked to the occult store's front door. Angel subsequently said, "It's a bit early for the shop to be closed, isn't it?"

Frowning at the CLOSED sign and testing the door handle, Dawn got out her key; the one which she had kept from when she'd worked at the Magic Box last summer. She quickly let herself in as Angel followed the Key inside the store, before he called out, "Tara? Are you here?"

"Something's wrong. Today's money is still in the cash register," Dawn announced after checking the machine. She knew that Tara never left her earnings just sitting around unguarded; something like that was just tempting fate concerning thieves of either the mundane or supernatural variety. "I'll check the back room, you check the basement!"

"Be careful," Angel cautioned her before he quickly went downstairs.

Dawn hurried into Buffy's training area. Straightaway, she discovered Willow's girlfriend and her ex-boyfriend flat on their backs, almost side by side on one of the mats – and still completely out cold.

Even though she knew that both Tara and Oz preferred their significant other to be of the female persuasion, Dawn could not help wondering, ( _Holy shit! Are those two sleeping together, or what?_ )

TBC...


	8. Queen To King's Level One

See Chapter One for disclaimer and details. Greetings and salutations, one and all! Welcome to the latest chapter, where the plot doth begin to thicken. But seriously, thanks to everyone who's been reading and reviewing the story; your comments and feedback truly inspire me to keep going with the story-telling. Please keep it coming! Now, just a couple of things; I mention the 2004 Spanish train massacre in this chapter, but no offence is meant in any form whatsoever to all those people who died or were injured that day. And if anyone from the LAPD is reading this, again no offence is meant by what happens in the scene with Wesley; this is a work of fiction, after all. Well, enough boring stuff from me; time to get on with what you all came here for!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eight: Queen To King's Level One<strong>

**Wolfram & Hart-controlled demon dimension**

**March 11th, 2004**

Illyria, one-time god-king of the primordium, demon monarch and shaper of things, was very annoyed.

Make that thoroughly angry.

All right; she was completely and utterly PISSED OFF!

After Illyria had discovered her deceased army of doom and noted in passing the dead remains of the Qwa'ha Xahn, there had only been one thought in the Old One's mind; to use the power of the Hellmouth to amplify her time-travel capabilities and return to her own era, the Primordial Age. That way, she could take control after her fellow Old Ones were either dead or gone, and create a world where humanity was and always had been nothing but the stinking dirt she ultimately considered it to be – before then proceeding on and conquering every other dimension out there, as well.

That was why Illyria had opened a portal to Sunnydale...

...and yet, once she'd stepped through it, the Old One had become lost in the multi-dimensional infinity of the universe.

The reasons for this were two-fold.

Firstly, the active Hellmouth's malevolent energies had the power to warp reality itself – and so, unless you knew exactly what you were doing (which Illyria didn't, not after millions of years of captivity), it was unwise to create a portal to anywhere within the Sunnydale town limits. There was no telling what might go wrong, and where the portal might end up being redirected to.

And secondly, the multi-verse had grown and expanded significantly since Illyria had been imprisoned within the Deeper Well. Granted, there were many dimensions out there which Illyria was personally familiar with – such as Pylea, the world without shrimp, and even the world containing nothing but shrimp. And from there, she could easily have found her way back to Earth.

But the portal from LA had initially deposited the Old One in an unknown Wolfram & Hart prison dimension, and after wrecking, smashing and killing her way through it, Illyria had acted like the equivalent of a lost motorist – travelling from one place to another via her portals, looking for anything familiar that indicated the way home, and also annihilating anything that had the temerity to stand in her path.

From a human point of view, the Old One's current actions were not unwelcome – the Wolf, Ram and Hart were suffering staggering losses thanks to Illyria's rampage. Not to mention that the apocalyptic plan of the Senior Partners which Holland Manners had once alluded to, had now been put centuries behind schedule.

But the flip side to that was that the ancient demon couldn't remain lost forever – and it was only a matter of time before Illyria arrived back on Earth...

* * *

><p><strong>Sunnydale Motor Inn, Sunnydale<strong>

**The same time**

Warren Mears was continuing to make preparations for his upcoming assassination of Buffy Summers, when his cell phone twittered. There were only four people on the planet who knew the number, given the terrorist cell system the Order of Taraka used, so the killer for hire used a headset attached to his cell phone to speak to his caller without apprehension. "Triple-ought-two-eight-six, you are go for Mears."

#Good afternoon, Mr. Mears,# the familiar voice of Patrice said to him. #I hope I'm not calling at a bad time.#

"You're not. What do you want?" Warren asked brusquely.

#Do I really need to dignify that with an answer?# Patrice's voice now contained a small hint of malice. #Mr. Mears, what are you doing in Sunnydale?#

"Carrying out my current assignment," Warren replied, checking his weapons – including his Glock 9mm pistol, a replacement for the P226 he'd left behind in Sweden.

#There are no assignments on the California Hellmouth at this time, Mr. Mears.#

"No official ones, granted. But then, I'm my own contractor for this particular job," Warren said into the headset.

A sigh. #I thought I'd eliminated that independent vengeful streak from you, Mr. Mears. Those of us who wear the ring for the Order of Taraka are supposed to have no earthly desires, other than collecting the bounty from our assignments-#

"Which is exactly what I'm doing," Warren interrupted his former mentor. "What YOU don't seem to realize is that the bounty from a job doesn't have to always be financial in nature. Look, I'll be done with all this in approximately forty-eight hours. And there are no official assignments scheduled for me within that time window, are there?"

#No,# Patrice sounded very reluctant in admitting that. #Very well, Mr. Mears. Even though your current actions could almost be considered insubordination, I will grant you a temporary leave of absence until Sunday morning. If you're not back in Washington by that time, however, you may consider yourself persona non gratis – and possibly even a viable target, according to what our superiors decide. Keep that in mind.#

Patrice disconnected, and Warren took off his headset. Calmly, carefully, he took the jack out of the phone, tossed the headset onto the bed and put his cell in his pocket.

"Frigid bitch," Warren commented to himself about his caller, before beginning to study the schematics of the new version of Sunnydale High in great detail.

* * *

><p><strong>4 Parkview Crescent, Sunnydale<strong>

**A while later**

( _Almighty Zeus, but I'd forgotten just how GOOD a shower with soap could feel,_ ) Xander thought to himself with a contented sigh, feeling a lot more human as he began finishing up his ablutions.

Turning off the taps, the naked and wet guy grabbed a towel and began drying himself off. As Xander stepped out of the shower he got a glimpse of himself in the bathroom mirror, and so he had to admit – Cordelia did have a point about how thin he was nowadays.

( _Not that it actually matters what my waistline looks like. Hopefully, I'll be done with this whole thing soon, and get back to Pylea before Groo and Fred get themselves into trouble without me,_ ) Harris thought to himself.

Wrapping the towel around his waist, Xander exited the bathroom into the bedroom suite. There on the bed the young man found a shirt, suit, tie, socks and shoes. None of the clothes were exactly his size; but these days, Harris wasn't the type to complain about such things, and his only concern (apart from going Commando like this) was whether or not these threads would let him blend in sufficiently well outside the mansion's walls.

"Xander, are you done yet?" Cordelia's impatient voice rang out from the other side of the door.

"Yeah, I guess so," Xander replied, stuffing the tie into one of the black suit's pockets and lacing up his shoes.

"Good!" Ms. Chase barged into the room, and quickly dragged him to the library. She then said to Xander, "Look, I know I promised you I wouldn't ask a lot of stupid questions, but-"

"Cordelia. It's okay," Xander interrupted her. During his shower, he had thought about the dream he'd had concerning Harry Doyle – if dream it had been – and that whole thing about 'manners' had forced the ex-convict to reconsider his prior actions and attitude. "Look, I'm sorry I shouted at you like that before; it's just that I've had kind of a rough day. And I owe you for the clothes and for giving me a place to stay, so how about this? I give you the edited highlights of my life over the past five years, and you give me yours. Deal?"

"Okay," Cordelia said slowly before she said more firmly, "You go first."

"All right. First off, I left Sunnydale back then because I had an assassin after me-"

"An ASSASSIN?" Cordelia interrupted immediately, having forgotten about Faith's death threats by this time. "You gotta be kidding me! Why would anyone want to kill you?"

"I didn't hang around long enough to ask that evil bitch from the Order of Taraka why. Well, actually I sorta did, but...anyway, after that, I went underground for a while. I eventually ended up in Chicago, but then I went to jail for arson-"

"ARSON?" Cordelia interrupted again, she definitely hadn't been expecting to hear that.

"Yeah. I got caught burning down an abandoned building that the vamps in my neighborhood had been lured into. Of course, it's not like I could say that to the hanging judge who handled my case," Xander gave her a mirthless look. "Anyway, while I was a guest of the penal system I met someone. She was even more of an evil bitch than that assassin I just mentioned, but she helped me get out of jail early in exchange for hunting down two vampires."

"WHAT?" Cordelia looked like she couldn't believe that her ex could possibly be serious about that.

"What, what? It's true," Xander told her forcefully. "Okay, it took me over eighteen months to do it, but I eventually accomplished what I'd been hired for. I travelled to a lot of places in Europe and Africa as part of the job, and afterwards, I settled down somewhere called Pylea."

"Pylea? Never heard of it," the brunette said in confusion.

"Woodsy place, lots of demons. I became part of the unofficial army that fights against them," Xander told her honestly, even though he was leaving out a LOT of detail.

"Oh. Right, your Soldier Guy thing during that Halloween," Cordelia jumped to conclusions as she recalled that eventful night. "So, why didn't you ever contact me? When did you come back to Sunnydale? And why? And why were you running around dressed like that when I found you?"

"In order, one: it was safer for you that way. Two, I'm not entirely sure, since I ended up unconscious after I got here. Three, an informant – informants – told me I needed to be here for something, you don't need to know what. And four, I arrived through a portal, which didn't give me the opportunity to change clothes," Xander said truthfully, even if again it wasn't the whole truth by any means.

"So, the outfit you were wearing before – THAT'S what they wear in this Pylea place? God, their fashion sense must be even worse than yours was during high school," Cordelia shook her head in distaste.

( _More like the demons force us to scrounge for whatever rags we can find to wear, but then you don't need to know about that, either._ ) "All right, you've heard my life's story. What about yours?" Xander demanded.

"Well, let's see. At Graduation, we killed off the huge-ass snake demon that the Mayor became, by blowing up the school-" Cordelia started to say.

"You guys BLEW UP Sunnydale High?" Xander interrupted, with a delighted grin on his face.

"Yeah, but they rebuilt it again a few years later, so big whoop," Cordelia shrugged, leaving out how many people had been killed during Graduation. "Anyway, I left for Los Angeles, like straight after I got my diploma. I spent a few months alone, before I moved in with my cousin Timmy – those are his clothes you're wearing, by the way – and I tried to make it as an international superstar in the movie business. But it didn't exactly work out – so I switched to becoming a writer instead."

"A writer?" Xander asked, interested despite himself.

Cordelia grabbed a copy of her book, _Cassandra: Tales of a Cheerleading Demon Slayer _off one of the shelves and tossed it to him. "Fantasy fiction, even though I did write some Internet fanfiction first. I know, I know; ME doing something like that?" the former socialite rolled her eyes after seeing the expression on Xander's face. "Well, despite how much of a nerd it makes me sound like, it was good practice for me to hone my writing skills – and my work actually generated some helpful feedback, believe it or not."

"Doogie Howser?" Xander asked, recalling one of Willow's forays into such on-line story-telling.

"As if!" Cordelia looked insulted. "My stories were set within shows like Baywatch, Charmed and CSI..."

"CSI?" Xander looked confused.

Cordelia looked at him, astounded. "You don't know what CSI is? Hello, it's only one of the most popular shows on TV right now! Xander, have you been living in a cave or something?"

"At times, yeah. Weren't you listening to me, just now? Hell, I haven't watched ANY TV for the past three years," Xander told her acerbically, before holding up the novel. "Getting back on topic, how well did your book do?"

"It hasn't been out that long, but sales have been fairly good so far," Cordy shrugged nonchalantly.

"Good enough to buy your house back?" Xander asked curiously, looking around at the Chase manor.

"No, actually; me moving back in here was a birthday present from Timmy," Cordelia shook her head, before apparently changing the subject. "Hey, do you remember what you said to me during Prom night?"

"Could ya be more specific? As I recall, a LOT of things were said that night, most of them not good," Xander replied as a scowl appeared on his face.

Cordelia told him fervently, "When I was at my lowest point ever, you told me that I could do anything I wanted, if I set my mind to it – and I never forgot that, Xander. Even when I was living in a smelly, tiny apartment with practically no prospects at all, I never forgot you saying that you believed in me; that I could make it as something other than, y'know, a porn star or a street-walker. I figure I owe a lot of my motivation to succeed to our conversation that night. So, thank you for saying what you did!"

"You're welcome," Xander smiled, abruptly recalling that little chat – as well as his ex-girlfriend's drunken attempt at reconciliation that evening. "By the way, whatever happened to Wesley? 'Cause as I recall, you two were together back then; and I couldn't help noticing how you never mentioned him as part of your life's story just now."

"Wesley? I haven't heard from him since Graduation. I mean, it was totally over between us right after you disappeared. My God, I hope he doesn't come to the high school reunion this Saturday night! I wouldn't know what to say to him!" Cordelia exclaimed. "Oh, do you wanna come with me to that? I know a lot of people suspect you died five years ago, but-"

"Thanks for the offer, Cor, but I think it's best if I keep a low profile. I'm still a target for assassination by the Order of Taraka, remember?" Xander reminded her.

"WHAT?"

Both Cordelia and Xander turned around to see Timothy Chase standing at the doorway, looking shocked. "Uh, Timmy, look..." Cordelia began to say.

"This is your cousin?" Xander flash-analysed the newcomer and quickly pegged him as an insignificant threat.

"Yeah, Xander," the brunette nodded to her ex.

"Cuz, can I talk to you? ALONE?" Tim immediately had a hard look on his face.

"No problem. I still remember where the kitchen is in this place, I'll see you guys later," Xander excused himself and went off to find some food.

"Timmy-" Cordelia started to say.

"Cordelia. Was that Xander Harris, yes or no?" Tim cut her off at once.

"Well, yeah-"

"I want him out of this house, RIGHT NOW!" Tim shouted, interrupting her yet again.

"Hey! This is MY house, and I have the tenancy papers to prove it! I can bring anyone I want here," Cordelia retorted, some heat starting to appear on her cheeks.

"Not HIM! My God, Cordelia, when did that guy come back to town? And how deep has he already dragged you into that whole stupid 'fighting against demons and vampires' thing?" Tim shouted again, not caring if Xander heard him or not.

"I brought Xander here less than half an hour ago, and there's nothing stupid about someone fighting the things that'll crawl out of their lairs and kill you if you're not careful, and my God, mister – who the HELL gave you permission to act like you're my father? Cordelia shouted back at her cousin.

"I don't believe this. That cheating asshole's been back for barely five minutes, and suddenly it's like the last five years where I've been there for you – letting you live with me, helping you with your acting career, even picking you up from that vampire's place way back when – all that now means nothing?" Tim asked cuttingly, causing Cordy to look away. "I'm serious, Cordelia. I want that guy out of here, right this second! And don't let Harris into the house again, ever! He's nothing but trouble, not to mention a no-good piece of scum!"

"Let's get something straight right now, Timmy. I may owe you for everything since high school – my accomplishments, my house, and maybe even my life – but Cordelia Chase is no one's lackey to be given orders like that! And newsflash, but even if Xander is a cheater, he's NOT scum – ever since we were teenagers, he's saved more lives than you and me put together! Oh, and just so you know, all that the dork asked for was to lay low here until nightfall, but guess what? As far as I'm concerned, my ex-boyfriend can stay here now for as long as he wants! And if you don't like it, TOUGH!" She then stormed out of the library, very upset.

Timothy Chase watched Cordelia, someone he practically considered a sister after all these years, depart – with a brief look of incomprehensible fear and anguish on his face.

* * *

><p><strong>676 Hoffman Terrace, Sunnydale<strong>

**A while later**

Willow was sitting in her study within the home she shared with Tara, working on her latest computer network project. Since graduating from UC Sunnydale last year, she had gone into business for herself; and what with the high demand for her services, by this point Willow had already made enough money to fully repay her student loan.

( _Hmm, setting up these firewalls is gonna be kinda tricky,_ ) Willow thought to herself, trying to figure out how to make them as impenetrable as possible for her client, the Sunnydale First National Bank. ( _The network's gotta be secure, but still be flexible enough to cope with human error. I figure maybe an asymmetric key algorithm – no, better yet, a hexagonic one, like what that ADAM thing used way back when..._ )

Willow continued to work on her project until she decided to take a break for a while, let her brain recharge its batteries a little. She started reading the on-line version of the Sunnydale Press newspaper, until her cell phone rang. "Hello?"

#Willow, it's me,# said Tara's somewhat strained voice.

"Hey, sweetie! Oh my God, have you heard what's happened? There's been a terrorist attack in Spain!" Ms. Rosenberg started to babble in horror as she read the news report on her computer screen, "Uh, they're saying that roughly ten bombs have exploded in Madrid, nearly two hundred people killed and thousands injured-"

#Willow, Xander Harris is back!# Tara interrupted her, bringing the babble-fest to a screeching halt.

"What?" the redhead whispered into her phone, honestly not sure if she was hearing things.

#It's true! Oz is here with me; he hauled the man out of the ocean this morning, a-and brought him here to the Magic Box-#

"And you're calling me NOW, to tell me about this?" Willow interrupted while looking at her PC's clock, her tone of voice a bit harsher than she'd intended.

#Willow – Oz and I have been unconscious ourselves since then. We were magically attacked and Dawn and Angel only just now woke us up,# Tara's voice sounded a bit hurt over the phone.

"Oh my God! Are you okay? And – wait, you said Oz is there with you?" Willow demanded. "No, never mind. Look, I'm coming over there myself right now!"

#Are you sure? It's been a long time, I know, but – Willow, honey, are you sure you'll be okay coming to the Magic Box?#

The redhead understood what her life partner was saying; it may have been nearly two and a half years since she'd gotten her magic craving under control, but just like with any other addict – it didn't take much to trigger a relapse. Going to that particular store for Willow was like a reformed alcoholic going to an all-you-can-drink kegger; doable, but risky and inherently dangerous.

"I've got to face my demons one day, Tara. And if Xander's there-" Willow started to say.

#He's not, actually. Your friend disappeared before the whammy Oz and I got hit by wore off,# Tara explained. #Right now, we have no idea where he is.#

"What? All right, uh, if Dawn and Angel are there – well, why don't we all meet up at their house?" Willow said, with a distinct air of relief at not having to go to the Magic Box after all. "Get Buffy and Giles to join us, too, as soon as they finish up at the school."

#Okay, sweetie. We'll see you there soon. Love you,# Tara said her goodbyes.

"Love you, too," Willow said, before she hurriedly switched off her computer, grabbed her keys and headed off for 1630 Revello Drive.

* * *

><p><strong>LAPD precinct, Los Angeles<strong>

**The same time**

His usual strength and spirit completely shattered by recent events, Wesley sat in the interview room while the members of the Los Angeles Police Department started hammering him with questions about what had happened at the bank earlier today.

A silent alarm had been tripped when Illyria and Knox had entered and killed the security guard, not long before the Angel Investigations crew had arrived. After Illyria had gone, an injured Spike had grabbed the fruit of his loins in order to take him to the closest hospital; William junior had looked to be in pretty bad shape as father and son had left the scene. Wes had told Nina she should leave as well; the female werewolf had obviously been freaked out by all the violence and killing, and if the truth be told, she had only been there out of loyalty to the absent Oz.

Not long afterward, the LAPD had arrived and swarmed all over the scene. The cops had thus found Wesley grieving over Harry's dead body, and promptly arrested him before taking him downtown for questioning.

"All right, let's go over it again. What were you doing at the bank?" the detective in charge of the interrogation demanded.

"I'd received information that a, uh, crime was going to be committed at that location," Wesley said in a lifeless tone of voice.

"Yeah? So why didn't you call the LAPD and let US handle it, huh?" the other detective present spat out.

"I run a private detective agency-"

"And ya think that gives you the right to go wherever you want, and do whatever you want?" the first detective said, with a professional's contempt for the amateur.

"No," Wesley shook his head, his mind still focused on Harry. The woman with whom he'd shared so much over the past four and a half years, through all the good times and bad. He still found it impossible to accept that the seer really was dead and gone...

"All right, private dick. You got a tip-off. You show up at the scene. Then what?" the second detective demanded.

"First off, I saw the security guard's dead body," Wesley replied in that robotic, mechanical voice. He then selectively edited the truth of what had happened in order to protect the rest of the Fang Gang, "There was a man and a woman, uh, present in the bank. When Harry and I confronted them, the woman killed my partner. I then drew my pistol, and when the man came at me, I shot him. At that point, the woman must have left – at least I think she did, but then I only had eyes for Harry..."

"Harriet Doyle. Employee of Angel Investigations since, what, December 1999?" the second detective asked, looking at a police file with the seer's name on it.

"Yes," Wes replied with a short nod. "That's right."

"You say you killed the other guy, you shot him – in self-defence, right? So what did you do with the gun?" the first detective suddenly growled directly in Wesley's face.

"What?" Wesley looked confused, as he finally looked up at his interrogators. "I, I don't – no, wait, I remember tossing the weapon aside, I – you didn't find it?"

"Would we be asking if we had it in our possession, you limey ass?" the second detective roared at him.

"I don't know what to tell you, I – everything happened so fast," Wesley temporized, shaking his head and avoiding all mention of portals and a demonic temple in another dimension.

"You wanna know what I think? I think you're making this whole bullshit story up," the first detective snarled in Wesley's face. "Everything from the tip-off to this so-called mystery woman who supposedly killed Ms. Doyle!"

"I assure you, I'm not," Wes said icily, starting to get angry.

"Yeah? Well, in case you didn't realize it, pal, what we've got here are three dead bodies and one suspect – you! So here's my theory," the other detective said. "You dragged that bimbo so-called partner of yours into a deserted bank to blow you in private, but the stupid ditz suddenly gets cold feet about the whole thing. Then you two stumbled onto the guard and that other guy, she starts screaming rape, you panic and kill the two witnesses, and then you decide to off that dumb piece of ass so that she won't talk either-"

Infuriated beyond his ability to tolerate over the slurs against Harry's memory, Wes leapt up and attacked the offensive fool, punching the plain-clothes cop in the face before the first detective grabbed Wes and slammed the British man's head down onto the table, before roughly handcuffing him.

"Goddamn bastard, BOOK HIM!" the second detective shouted angrily to the uniformed cops who entered the interview room, before giving Wes a vicious punch to the kidneys as payback for his attack just now.

TBC...


	9. Reunion

See Chapter One for disclaimer and details. Greetings and good wishes to ye, one and all! Welcome to the latest chapter, which as the title suggests finally contains the big reunion of what was once the core four. (Insert evil laugh, or 'mwa-ha-ha-ha-ha') And as always, a big thank you to everyone who's been reading and reviewing the story! Please, don't stop...and tell me what you think is good and bad about the fic! It's the only way for a writer to improve his tradecraft, after all...

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Nine: Reunion<strong>

**Somewhere in Georgetown, Washington D.C.**

**March 11th, 2004**

Patrice looked around at her quarters, here in the Order of Taraka's safehouse. She would have much preferred staying at the Four Seasons, or even the Ritz-Carlton, but the Order's seers had prophesized that a global financial meltdown was coming within the next five years – and so the organization's bean counters had initiated an economy drive, ordering everyone to cut back on unnecessary expenses until further notice.

If there was one thing even more frightening than an army of deadly killers for hire, it was the army of accountants who gave them their orders; and Patrice had no wish to bring the wrath of her superiors down upon her head.

Frowning, Patrice thought back to her recent conversation with Warren. His actions were troubling to her. Not necessarily in and of themselves, but because they brought back unwelcome memories of Sunnydale. That cursed Hellmouth where her actions had resulted in embarrassment and failure; first, from failing to kill that Slayer, Buffy whatever-her-name-was – and then, a few years later, failing to kill her sidekick, that son of a bitch named Harris.

Granted, the upper echelons of the Order had been impressed by her patience sticking it out in Sunnydale for three years after the Mayor's death, just in case Harris showed up again; so much so that she had recently been promoted to the rank of regional director here in Washington. But Patrice still felt the sting of failure regarding that assignment, even today. And she hated that with every fibre of her being.

Her phone rang, and as Patrice picked up she heard the echoing sound of an electronic relay and scrambler to ensure privacy from unwelcome ears. ( _Ah. One of the Order's informants._ ) "Proceed and identify yourself."

#This is, uh – you people told me to use the code name 'Jellyfish',# the distorted male voice said somewhat uncertainly.

"Yes, Mr. Jellyfish. What have you to report?" Patrice replied eagerly, after recalling exactly who this particular informant was.

#Well, apparently, Xander Harris has been spotted back in Sunnydale. According to my information, he was chased down Main Street by some traffic cop today, but he managed to ditch the incompetent flat-foot,# the male voice said.

"What else?"

#That's all I know,# the man replied, albeit unconvincingly to Patrice's ears.

"Mr. Jellyfish, need I remind you what the consequences are for lying or withholding information from the Order of Taraka? If you do not provide full disclosure, we will be happy to provide it to all the relevant authorities-"

#Hey, you don't need to remind me about my past sins! Blackmail is – look, we both know you people have got me by the short and curlies,# the male voice interrupted her. #Whether you believe it or not, that's all I know. If I hear anything else, I'll phone you as soon as I can.# The caller then disconnected without another word.

Patrice slammed down the phone so hard it shattered into little pieces, and immediately the woman began to pack her old field kit. Fully aware that she was about to commit the same sort of sin she had condemned Warren for, the female killer nonetheless began her preparations to travel to the West Coast – as soon as she appointed someone to take over as regional director around here, of course.

* * *

><p><strong>1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale<strong>

**Later that evening**

"Xander's BACK?"

Buffy's high-pitched, astonished voice could be heard throughout the living room, as the Slayer looked around at her companions. The expression on her face was one of stunned disbelief, as she stared at Willow, Dawn, and Angel.

"Yeah, according to what Oz and Tara said earlier on," the redhead gestured helplessly.

"Where, uh, w-where are they right now?" Giles asked, looking around the house.

"Tara had to go home, she still wasn't feeling well after that 'whammy' hit her this morning," Dawn told him.

"And Oz left, saying that he was going to go look for Xander. Y'know, check out the places where he used to hang out during high school," Angel shrugged.

"So, none of you have actually seen Xander? Like, in person?" Buffy wanted to know.

"You think there's been some sort of error? A, a case of mistaken identity, s-so to speak?" Giles was able to guess what his pseudo-daughter was thinking.

"I dunno. Maybe," Buffy admitted.

"When I spoke to him, Oz was certain it was Xander," Angel spoke up, inwardly sighing over how his beloved didn't seem at all convinced by that piece of information. "And given his werewolf smelling ability, I think it's a pretty safe bet that if Oz says it was him – it really was him."

"Well, if it really was him – then where the hell has Xander been for the last five years? And why did he never get in touch?" Buffy wanted to know. "I'm sorry, but unless I actually see him with my own two eyes-"

The front doorbell rang, interrupting the conversation so Buffy went to answer it. Her features immediately contorted into a scowl as the Chosen One recognized the brunette standing on her porch. "You've got a lot of nerve showing your face here!"

"Well, what can I say? I kept ringing Giles' place for ages, but he never picked up," Cordelia shrugged, with an odd smirk on her face. "So I assume he's here?"

"Yeah, now get lost!" Buffy began to shut the door.

"No, wait!" Ms. Chase called out, causing Buffy to stop. "You slam that door in my face, and you'll miss out on the gift I've brought him!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" the Slayer demanded, scowling more intensely than ever.

Her megawatt smile plastered all over her sun-bronzed face, Cordelia reached out with her left arm and dragged an annoyed-looking Xander into view. "Him."

Buffy was stunned silent, a look of slack-jawed disbelief appearing on her lovely features. Cordelia saw it and turned triumphantly to Xander, saying, "Okay, your debt to me is like paid in full!"

"What-?" Buffy spluttered.

"That look on your face, Buffy? That's all I need for rescuing Xander from the cops this morning, and giving him a place to stay!" Cordy said gleefully. She then dragged Harris past the shocked Chosen One, brushing right past the blonde as if she was utterly inconsequential now. "Hey, everybody, look who I found!"

"XANDER!" Dawn screamed in delight, instantly hurling herself into his arms and hugging her old crush tightly.

"Dawnie? Wow, did you ever grow up a lot!" Xander exclaimed in surprise, as the magicks of the monks from the Order of Dagon kicked in and he recognized the Key in human form. "Look at you, you're almost as tall as me now!"

"Yeah, I – hey! You're so thin!" Dawn then said worriedly, stepping back and checking out his waist line. "And you're dressed like a grown-up?"

"Well, the suit was a gift from Cordelia. And hey, what's with all the women-folk constantly telling me that I need to fatten myself up?" Xander mock-complained to Dawn.

"It means that you should listen to your betters for once, Lame Boy," Cordelia replied. "Isn't that right, Dawn?"

"Absolutely!" Dawn nodded emphatically. "Xander, we gotta get you something to eat! I'm going to make you some food, I'll be right back!"

"Wait! I already ate at Cordelia's place!" Xander called out, even though the female teen was already halfway to the kitchen. "Well, this certainly brings back memories. Hey, everyone."

"Hello, Xander," Angel said calmly, given how Willow, Giles and Buffy were still too out of it to say anything – and noting that he should try to have a private chat with this man at some point later on.

Xander frowned as he walked up to the former vampire. "Dead Boy, is that a tan I'm seeing on your skin? And – your neck. Is that an honest-to-God pulse I'm seeing?" Harris seemed absolutely astonished by what his eyes were telling him.

"Yeah. I became human again, a few months before Christmas," Angel explained guardedly, deciding not to comment on that hated nickname. "There was a prophecy, and it's all kinda complicated – but bottom line, Buffy and I are back together again now."

"Well, congrats on the whole humanity thing – and you and Buffy are back together? Oh yeah, you two broke up just before Prom. And you left for Los Angeles afterwards, didn't you?" Xander shook his head at those memories.

"You were there in my city, at some point?" Angel cocked his head suspiciously.

"Yep. Who do you think chopped Darla's head off to avenge Jesse's murder?" Xander replied, enjoying the look of utter shock and surprise on Angel's face. "And in case you don't know, Drusilla got dusted as well about eighteen months later. I can't claim the credit for that one, though; it was Fred who finally evened the score for Kendra, while I was tied up-"

"YOU'VE BEEN HUNTING VAMPIRES?" Buffy's loud, semi-hysterical voice seemed to echo throughout the room, cutting him off.

"Yeah," Xander nodded, turning to glance at her. "Part of the deal I made to get out of jail."

"JAIL?" Willow echoed, looking at Harris in wide-eyed amazement and pre-empting Buffy's reply.

"The big lug got arrested for arson in Chicago; burning down some building with vampires in it," Cordelia explained. "Kinda reminded me of what Buffy once admitted she'd done to get booted out of Hemery High..."

Buffy sent her a dirty look. But before the Slayer could say anything, a red-haired blur rushed forward to attach itself to Xander like a human barnacle.

"I'msorrryI'msosorryImissedyouI''msorrypleaseforgiveme-" Willow babbled at incredibly high speed even for her, finally getting over her paralysis at encountering this blast from her past.

"Hey! Hey, Willow, come on," Xander said quickly, eventually prying her loose. "Look, if you're trying to apologize for what happened during our last meeting? Don't bother, it's okay."

"It is?" Buffy asked, honestly not sure if she was dreaming right now.

"Yeah. Oh, sure, at the time – well, I was so pissed that I wanted to kill someone after you three told me I was being permanently benched for my own good, it's why I left so abruptly that evening," Xander explained, causing Buffy and Willow and Giles to stare at him in shock, even as Cordelia gaped and Angel frowned. "But I've had five years to think about things, and the way I see it now? You guys actually did me a favor back then."

"What are you talking about, boy?" Giles finally broke his silence and addressed the former Slayerette.

"I'm talking about how you and the girls did me a solid in terms of kicking me out of the nest when I needed it, G-man. See, eventually I realized how my time here in Sunnydale was over by that point, one way or the other. I mean, if I hadn't needed to run like hell to avoid the Sunnydale P.D. and that assassin, the same woman from the Order of Taraka who tried to kill Buffy during junior year? After Graduation, I figure I woulda left town on my road trip and eventually settled down somewhere, lived my own life, and never spoken to any of you again," Xander explained.

"HEY!" Dawn said angrily, as she finally came back from the kitchen with a platter full of food. Willow and Buffy looked like they'd just been sucker-punched and/or staked in the heart; Cordelia, too, was looking hurt by that statement, even if no one noticed in her case.

"Apart from you, of course, Dawn-patrol," Xander amended his prior statement with a quick smile, as the Key put the platter down on the coffee table. "Say, where's your mom? I'd love to say hello to Mrs. S while I'm here..." the young man trailed off as he saw the tears immediately form in Dawn's eyes. "Oh, no. What is it, Dawn, what's wrong?"

"Mom died over three years ago, Xander," the Key tried not to cry as Willow came over to give her a comforting hug, just as Angel did the same for a wet-eyed Buffy.

"Uh, yeah – sorry, I guess I forgot to mention that. Apparently, Mrs. Summers passed away from a brain aneurysm or something," Cordelia said embarrassedly in response to the look Xander gave her.

"Oh, Dawnie, I'm so sorry," Harris quickly gave the girl another hug, as she wrapped her arms around him tightly. "Your mother was the most wonderful woman I ever knew, I can't even imagine what that must have been like for you..."

"Thanks," Dawn sniffled, before she finally let go and wiped away the last of her tears. The next moment, though, she saw the splinter of wood in Xander's right hand. "Wait a minute – isn't that what Oz and Tara mentioned to me and Angel at the Magic Box earlier today, that splinter thing which knocked them unconscious?"

"Tara? Magic Box? And Oz is around here somewhere?" Xander said in confusion.

A brief conversation took place, as the Scooby Gang explained how the werewolf had found Harris washed up on the shores of the local beach, and Xander explained how he had hightailed it out of the magic shop as soon as he'd woken up and eventually stumbled into Cordelia's company. Then Buffy marched over to Xander and demanded to see the fragment of the Oracle embedded in his palm.

"Ouch!" the Slayer recoiled from the electric shock after trying to grab hold of the wooden splinter, just like Oz and Tara had done before her.

"Problem, Buffy?" Cordelia tried not to laugh out loud at her rival's discomfort.

"Not for me. Maybe for you," Buffy replied icily.

"Okay, I'm – sensing hostility. What's up with you two?" Xander asked carefully.

"Basically it's all about this book Cordelia wrote, where the, um, character based on Buffy was...well, a-a bit of a slutty bimbo," Willow replied uncomfortably, as everyone turned to stare at her. "And, uh, the character based on me was a complete nerd..."

"Hey, Wendy wasn't that bad!" Dawn shook her head in objection. "And okay, Babs was a bit of an airhead and she wasn't faithful to David, but-"

"But nothing, Dawn," Buffy cut her little sister off harshly, sending Cordelia a venomous glare. "You made me look like a selfish bitch in that damned book of yours! I swear, I came THIS close to suing you after I read that stupid drivel you wrote!"

"Uch, everybody's a critic," Cordelia flipped her hair to one side, as she let the vitriol roll off her as easily as water off a duck's back.

"Well, heck, maybe Cordy can make it up to you in the sequel she's writing," Xander shrugged and finally got back to business. "Anyway, Giles, you're the man I've been wanting to talk to. Where do you keep your books relating to the Slayage nowadays?"

"Uh, either at my home or, or, the Magic Box. Wh-why do you ask?" Giles wanted to know.

"Well, why do you think I'm back, British man?" Xander sent him a very sardonic look as he raised his eyebrows.

"Oh, God, not another apocalypse! We just got done with the previous one last month, there shouldn't be anything else scheduled until at least May or June!" Dawn whined, bringing a smile to Xander's face – the young man was reminded of ancient days when HE was the one who would have made comments like that.

"Is it something to do with that wooden splinter in your hand?" Willow asked, her brain quickly making the connection.

"You got it, Will. This is actually a souvenir from a talking tree calling itself the Oracle, and it sent me here to the Hellmouth to stop one of the Old Ones called, uh, Illyria, I think the name was. It also mentioned how if I fail, quote, 'all the worlds everywhere will eventually be crushed under the heel of the demon god-king', end quote," Xander said to his shocked and disbelieving audience.

"Wait a minute. Talking tree?" Buffy said sceptically. "Not to mention an apocalypse involving a, what did you call it – an Old One?"

"What, like that's any weirder than anything you'd normally find here in Sunnydale?" Xander asked her, even as Giles and Angel grew visibly pale at the mention of the pure demons from the Primordial Age.

"I have a question," Cordelia said to her ex-boyfriend, before Buffy could reply. "How the heck did a tree in this Pylea place manage to create a portal to send you here?"

"PYLEA?" Angel yelped, looking shocked as Xander shrugged, signifying that he didn't know the answer to Cordy's question.

"You know where that is?" Dawn looked around to her future brother-in-law, like the rest of the Scoobies she was unfamiliar with the name.

( _Oh, good Godfrey Cambridge,_ ) Xander thought in dismay while staring at the former vampire. ( _If he goes and spills the beans..._ )

"I think you should be the one to tell them exactly what Pylea is," Angel said to Xander seriously.

"What for? If you know that much about where I live nowadays, then you also gotta know how the girls are gonna react once they learn the truth!" Harris replied huffily.

"What are you two talking about?" Buffy demanded in her best 'I am Slayer, answer me!' voice.

"Yeah, Xander, what are you trying to hide? Earlier on today, you said Pylea was a, a woodsy place with lots of demons!" Cordelia barked out in concern.

"Is that how he described it? Because a demon I know who came from there described that realm as 'pure hell' – and he never wants to go back to Pylea again," Angel informed his audience.

"Really? Huh, what do you know," Xander mused. "Because I heard something from a couple of Deathwok clan demons Groo and I captured last month, before we killed them – your buddy's name wouldn't happen to be Krevlorneswath, would it?"

"He calls himself Lorne now," Angel nodded briefly.

"Whoa, hang on; YOU captured two demons? God damn it, Xander, how could you be so STUPID risking your life like that?" Buffy exploded. "I told you five years ago, you're gonna get killed doing stuff like that sooner or later! You should be living a normal life somewhere..."

Buffy trailed off, as she witnessed Xander doing something completely unexpected – he started laughing. In fact, he started laughing so hard that Harris had to sit down on the couch before his legs gave out and stopped supporting him altogether.

It was either laugh or go postal after hearing Buffy's speech, after all, and the fact was that Xander Harris hadn't laughed once – not once! – since that evening five years ago, when he had been forced to listen to his friends saying that he had to stay out of the fight for his own good.

"HEY, STOP LAUGHING AT ME!" Buffy shouted at her one-time best friend angrily. "Of all the..."

The Slayer had no idea why Xander was doing this, but she was feeling utterly infuriated by it. She could handle anger, threats and violence of all kinds – from the local demons to the local high school students – but someone laughing at her was almost impossible to tolerate nowadays, thanks in part to what Cordelia had written in her first novel.

* * *

><p><strong>LAPD precinct, Los Angeles<strong>

**March 12th, 2004**

Early that Friday morning, the Wolfram & Hart lawyer named Gavin Park stepped out of the police captain's office with a very satisfied expression on his face.

The last twenty-four hours had been very hectic ones for his branch of the firm. Gavin had found himself unexpectedly promoted to head of the Special Projects division after Lilah's death, and he had been in meetings for most of the previous day, learning what the Old One was doing throughout Wolfram & Hart's interdimensional domain. It had been made thoroughly clear to him that a solution to the problem needed to be in place, by the time Illyria managed to find her way back to Earth...

...and so Gavin had taken a leaf out of Lilah's book, when it came to cleaning up his predecessor's mess.

"Mr. Wyndam-Pryce," the evil attorney said a few minutes later, standing outside the cell Wesley was being released from after spending the night in jail. "I trust you're not feeling too badly after this, ah, regrettable display of ineptitude?"

"What are you doing here?" Wesley stared at Gavin with undisguised hostility, easily recognizing Lilah's second-in-command.

"I'm doing my civic duty, of course, in helping get the three murder charges against you dropped – two killings of which you didn't commit, and the other was simply self-defence. As a concerned member of the community, Wolfram & Hart couldn't possibly allow such a travesty of justice to take place – especially when it was two of our own who were responsible for yesterday's unfortunate events," Gavin said smoothly, the Asian man's face a false mask of caring and camaraderie. "Do you think we could continue this discussion elsewhere, perhaps? Some of the information I have to relay to you is strictly confidential, I'm afraid."

"Lead the way," Wesley gestured, wondering what exactly the enemy lawyer had in mind.

Once they were out of the police building and seated inside Gavin's limousine, the attorney leaned back and stretched, getting comfortable. "Please, the bar is fully stocked; help yourself."

"I prefer to remain sober for this sort of conversation, thank you. Now what are you and your firm up to?" Wesley demanded. "And for the record, the gloves are now officially off. When I find Lilah, whatever she's done to herself – I WILL kill her, one way or the other!"

Gavin exhaled loudly, and began to explain how Lilah was, in fact, dead and gone – that it was Illyria who was in the driver's seat now, and how the firm's seers had predicted the Old One would soon be in Sunnydale. "Unfortunately, no one from Wolfram & Hart can enter that town-"

"Why not?"

"The contract drawn up between the Senior Partners and the late Mayor Richard Wilkins, I'm afraid. There's a clause in there specifically forbidding anyone working for my firm from ever entering the town limits, a proviso which extends even beyond Wilkins' death. No doubt whoever drafted that contract was forced to eat his own liver for making such a concession, but that's neither here nor there right now," Gavin explained. "The point is, I need you to relay this information to the person that's been selected by Fate, or Destiny, or whatever you want to call it, to stop Illyria from carrying out her plans. According to my information from the Pylean branch of the firm, he's already there on the Hellmouth waiting for you."

"Angel?" Wesley asked questioningly, wondering just how much of this he could really believe.

"No – someone else, you'll learn who once you get there," Gavin said with a knowing smirk. "And in case you're worried about interference from the LAPD, don't be. Those two detectives you encountered yesterday, they'll have been demoted for incompetence by now – to think, they never actually asked you if you knew who Lilah and Mr. Knox were! It was very amusing bringing that little fact to everyone's attention – as well as telling the police that Lilah was a schizophrenic with a fetish for blue hair and red leather, someone under internal investigation by the firm," Park suddenly laughed in genuine humor.

"Well, I won't keep you any longer; I suspect your ride will be here any moment. Goodbye, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce, and good luck."

Wesley grabbed the file Gavin had given him and briskly walked away from the limousine. His head was still full of questions but, despite learning who was really responsible for Harry's murder, the Englishman's base feelings were unchanged. He intended to hunt Illyria down and terminate her with extreme prejudice, regardless of whatever nonsense Gavin had just spouted about a champion having being mystically selected to stop the Old One.

A honking horn from a familiar-looking van quickly grabbed Wesley's attention, during the next moment. ( _Ah. My ride, as expected._ ) "Hello, Oz."

"Hey," the normally unflappable werewolf had a mournful expression on his face as the vehicle came to a halt, and Oz rolled down the driver's side window. "I called Nina from Sunnydale this morning. She told me what happened yesterday, so I took off straightaway, didn't even say goodbye to anyone there – I'm sorry it took me so long to get here, Wes..."

"That's all right, Oz, and please – don't blame yourself for not being there at the bank yesterday. The sad truth is you couldn't have made any difference if you'd been present, instead of Ms. Ash. Ah, how is she, by the way? I fear I may have been rather abrupt with her after – it – happened," Wesley said awkwardly, before he went around to the other side of the van and opened the passenger side door.

"Nina's fine," Oz shrugged, as Wesley climbed in and put on his seat belt. "I got in touch with Spike too; I heard he took William to St. Matthew's hospital. Hasn't left his side, ever since his son got out of surgery," the young man reported. "That where we're heading?"

"Yes, but after we stop by the hotel first. I need to take a shower, and call someone regarding how long it'll be before we can claim Harry's remains and give her a decent funeral," Wesley said, suddenly looking a lot older than he actually was as the seer's painful death hit him all over again.

"Right," Oz said, privately grieving Harry's loss as well.

The van took off, heading for Hyperion Avenue amid all the usual congested traffic jams of the City of Angels.

TBC...


	10. Memories Of The Living, Remembrances Of

See Chapter One for disclaimer and details. Howdy do, and welcome to the latest chapter of Shattered! Thanks to everybody who has read and reviewed the story, or sent feedback of some sort; I know I keep saying this, but it really is most appreciated. Believe me, it truly is. Now, in some of the reviews, people have been saying that Buffy is acting OOC at best, and that she's being idiotic at worst. I'd just like to state for the record, that in no way am I bashing the character! Please remember that this is not the canon Buffyverse, and Buffy's life has been very different from season 5 onwards; as in no dying for the cause thanks to Glory, no resurrection, no sleeping with Spike, no First Evil/Turok-Han and (obviously) no sinking Sunnydale into the depths of the earth. I'm sorry if it hasn't been made clear, but the Buffy in this 'verse has only had her annual birthday disasters and the occasional apocalypse to deal with, so she's a very different person to the Slayer who – according to Andrew – was partying in Rome with the Immortal, during this point in Angel season 5. Anyway, I just wanted to make that clear, so let's get on with the fanfic...

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Ten: Memories Of The Living, Remembrances Of The Dead<strong>

**676 Hoffman Terrace, Sunnydale**

**March 12th, 2004**

It was almost lunchtime, and yet Willow wasn't hungry. She was supposed to be working on her computer network project, and yet she couldn't concentrate on anything related to that either. The only thought that kept going round and round within the redhead's mind was what she had heard Xander say last night:

( _After Graduation, I figure I woulda left town on my road trip and eventually settled down somewhere, lived my own life, and never spoken to any of you again._ )

Now, Willow knew she wasn't perfect. She had made mistakes before; nearly getting herself killed by a demon whilst on a magical high was an excellent example of how badly she could screw up. But last night's revelations had brought back memories the young woman had almost forgotten, memories of a decision she and Buffy and Giles had made for Xander's own good – a decision, the former hacker now realized, that had utterly destroyed the friendship they'd shared with the man, whatever his reasons for leaving Sunnydale might have been.

And THAT had been a screw-up far worse than diving into the addictive magicks of the slimy warlock named Rack.

( _Would Xander really have never spoken to any of us again?_ ) Willow asked herself. ( _I hate to admit it, but – I think so. We only wanted to keep him safe; but instead, all we accomplished was to lose a friend. Because after he left, Xander kept on fighting demons and vampires in his own way and on his own terms. And not only that, rightly or wrongly – he doesn't regret it in the slightest! Oh, Goddess, what was I thinking – insisting on Xander doing something that he sure as heck wasn't going to do?_ )

Willow didn't have an answer to that question. On the one hand, the thought of Xander battling the things which went 'chomp' in the night still filled her full of fear and concern for his safety; but on the other hand, it was finally clear to Ms. Rosenberg that her concerns and opinions had become completely irrelevant as far as her former friend was concerned.

They hadn't mattered to Xander when he'd left five years ago, and they didn't matter now either.

Trying to keep someone safe that didn't WANT to be kept safe was, in hindsight, definitely not worth the pain of eventually realizing how some mistakes couldn't ever be fixed.

The front doorbell rang, instantly distracting Willow from her thoughts. The redhead was subsequently very surprised to find Ms. Chase standing on her doorstep, with a gift-wrapped present in her hands. "Cordelia? What are you doing here?"

"No 'hi' or 'hello', huh?" Cordy asked as she shoved the gift into Willow's hands and entered the house. "Here."

"What's this?" Willow asked as she shut the front door, holding the present in her other hand.

"House-warming gift. It's a blender, I hope you like it," Cordelia replied.

"Uh, well, thanks – but y'know, Tara and I moved in here about three months ago. So isn't it a little late for gifts like that?" the young woman asked with a slightly confused look.

"It's still the social protocol when you visit someone's house for the first time," Cordelia shrugged, looking as if she could care less about the whole thing. She subsequently stared around at the front hall and said, "By the way, this place is very 'you'; and that's why you definitely need to hire an interior decorator. I can recommend a very good one, if you want."

"Cordelia..." Willow exhaled wearily over the brunette's predictable antics. "Why are you here? In case you didn't know, I have a job to do for a client that wants everything finished yesterday, so-"

"Oh, spare me! Willow, we both know that you've been moping nonstop after what Xander said last night," Cordelia interrupted crossly. "Namely, that he probably never would have spoken to any of you again – after you and Buffy and Giles treated him like he was a special needs child. For his own good, or whatever the hell it was you people came up with back then."

Willow tried to suppress the feelings that Cordelia's words had evoked, but she didn't succeed very well. "I repeat; why are you here? Because I kinda doubt it's to gloat about how the three of us totally screwed up that night. Nowadays, you prefer to do that sort of thing through the books you publish."

Much to Willow's surprise, Cordelia didn't look annoyed or angry; she just nodded approvingly. "That's better. Because you've developed a spine over the past decade, and it'd be a shame if you lapsed back into that useless nerd that let everyone pick on her all the time. But to answer your question, the reason I'm here is I want to talk to you about Xander."

"YOU want to talk to ME about HIM?" Willow's eyes went wide.

"Yeah," Cordy said straightforwardly. "And you'll at least do me the courtesy of listening – since if you'd kept your boyfriend-stealing mitts off of Xander all those years ago, we wouldn't need to have this conversation."

So Willow sighed again and led her unwelcome guest to the living room. After they sat down, Cordelia said, "What are your intentions towards him?"

"What do you mean?"

"Xander's spent the last five years without you or Little Miss Likes-To-Fight trying to hold the big dummy back, or telling him how useless he is," Cordelia said with far too much honesty. "So now that he's finally shown up again, just what do you intend to do? I already know that as far as the self-righteous blonde one is concerned, it's just gonna be more of the same. But just so it's clear, I'm not gonna let either her or you treat him like that again."

"What makes you think that's even gonna be an issue?" Willow then told the brunette how she had figured out that Xander was going to leave as soon as the current emergency was over. By his own admission, the man had not come here of his own free will, thus it was logical to assume that his presence on the Hellmouth was only temporary at best.

"Oh, crap. You really think he'd do something like that?" Cordelia asked, now looking worried. "Damn it, what do I do?"

"Well, you could always try asking him nicely to stay," the redhead said to her warily. "Assuming that's what you want..."

"It is."

"Why?"

"I beg your pardon?" Cordelia asked archly.

"Why do you want Xander to stay?" Willow asked frankly. "It's been five years, nearly six since you two broke up. There must have been hundreds of other guys you've dated since then, right? So why do you care? For that matter, why did you even bother to help him yesterday? The Cordelia Chase I remember who made Xander's life hell for six months, she would have turned him in to the police instead of helping him avoid them!"

"Is that what you really think of me?" Cordelia asked, growing visibly angry. "Okay, Willow, let me answer your questions in order. I've dated exactly forty-two guys in the last six years, including Xander himself. None of them apart from the dweeb ever got beyond second base, because I couldn't help comparing them all to him; and no one during or after high school ever measured up."

"Measured up, how?" Willow wanted to know.

"None of the men I dated would have risked their own lives for me by willingly fighting with a soulless vampire, after a psychopathic bitch put a knife to my throat," Cordelia said stonily. "That, by the way, also answers questions number two and three. And as for the last comment, you bet I made Xander's life hell for doing what he did to me. Because I gave him my heart, and he stomped all over it by cheating on me with you.

"Even when we were together, I was never all that much of a priority in Xander's life," Cordelia confessed, as Willow suddenly realized what all this was really about. "You were. You AND the Blonde Wonder, which really annoyed the hell out of me."

"So, is that why you put 'Cassandra' and 'Adrian' together in the last chapter of your book? Deep down, you want Xander back? I shoulda known," Willow shook her head. "Look, Cordelia. You didn't see how Xander reacted to all of us saying that we didn't want him to be part of the Slayage anymore, how we destroyed our friendship with him completely that night. So if you were thinking of persuading me to try to convince Xander to stay, I'm afraid you wasted your time coming here..."

( _As if! Ugh, this conversation is so over,_ ) Cordelia thought to herself before getting up and quickly leaving the house – much to Willow's surprise and unfettered concern.

* * *

><p><strong>Sunnydale Motor Inn, Sunnydale<strong>

**The same time**

Patrice was not in a good mood right now, and that was putting it mildly.

First off, she'd found it rather difficult to find someone to take over her duties in Georgetown. Just like with any other business, it was difficult for her colleagues to reconcile outstanding commitments with her request, especially at such short notice.

Secondly, even after Patrice had found someone able to cover for her, the Order's office accountant had refused to authorise the money for a plane ticket without a valid reason, thanks to that new cost-cutting directive. Frustrated and worried that Xander would have vanished again by the time she drove or caught a train to the other side of the country, Patrice had almost shot the accountant before coming to her senses, and she'd spun a yarn about Warren possibly going rogue; which necessitated a personal evaluation of the situation.

And thirdly, the plane from LAX to the Sunnydale Airport had been greatly delayed, making Patrice wonder if it would have been faster to get out and simply WALK to the damned Hellmouth.

Patrice went up to Warren's door and knocked three times. "Mr. Mears?"

The door opened, and Warren stood there with the Glock in his hand. He said distrustfully, "I received your text that you were coming. So what's going on, why are you here?"

"There's been a change in circumstances-" Patrice started to say as she walked into Warren's room. Then she cut herself off as she saw a brunette with a vampire face and a ball gag in her mouth, chained and spread-eagled naked on the bed. Patrice also perceived the standard soundproofing spell the members of the Order used to mask the noises of prisoners held in an insecure location.

Patrice turned around to stare at her old recruit. The Emperor Palpatine to his Darth Vader, she gazed deep to determine if Mears truly had fallen beyond salvage in terms of betraying the Order's code of practice for its operatives. Luckily for Warren, however, Patrice could see no traces of apprehension in his eyes, no hint of concern that he had been caught engaging in any sort of inappropriate behavior.

So all she said was, "Explain."

"Meet one of the local vampires, she calls herself Amy Madison," Warren gestured to his brunette prisoner, who growled at him through her gag and once again struggled against the enchanted chains holding her captive. "The first thing you taught me is that if you want to learn someone's secrets, ask the people who hate him – or her, as the case may be. Unfortunately, this bitch hasn't been able to tell me anything I didn't already know."

Patrice looked at the undead Amy. There were numerous burns all over her naked body, most likely from the bottle of holy water on the nightstand. "You've finished your interrogation?" the female assassin asked.

"Unless you care to have a crack at her yourself," Warren gestured amiably.

Patrice replied by bringing out a stake and quickly putting the vampiress out of her misery, the dust exploding outwards and then gently raining down all over the blanket.

"Room service is gonna get annoyed by that," Warren said to his boss.

Patrice ignored the wisecrack, and told Warren why she was here. And despite how, as Giles had once put it, every Tarakan assassin worked alone, in their own way – Warren obediently put his own plans to slay Buffy on hold as his boss explained how he was going to help her find and kill someone named Alexander Harris.

* * *

><p><strong>Restfield Cemetery, Sunnydale<strong>

**The same time**

Wearing a pair of dark sunglasses to disguise his features in public, Xander got out of the automobile and followed Angel into the graveyard, tagging along behind the centuries-old man who was carrying a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

Last night, after Buffy had become very upset and annoyed by the way he'd openly laughed at her, Giles had taken Xander home with him in order to investigate what information he had there on the Old One named Illyria. Cordelia had followed them, before eventually insisting that Xander return with her to the Chase mansion.

Not wanting to be the cause of friction between Cordelia and her cousin Tim, Xander had spent the night in the pool house, which had its own bed and living area. As soon as he'd woken up, though, Harris had put on his borrowed clothes and, after writing a brief note to his ex-girlfriend, he'd taken off for the Magic Box to get started on the research materials there.

Harris had ignored the irate phone call from Cordelia later on in the morning; but for some reason, he'd been unable to ignore Angel when that guy had shown up and asked Xander to come with him, saying there was something he had to see while he was in town.

( _Looks like Lord of the Brood was actually right for once,_ ) Xander thought as the two men came to a stop before the gravestone with 'JOYCE SUMMERS 1958-2001 BELOVED MOTHER TO US ALL' chiselled on it. ( _I did want to pay my respects while I was here, after all._ )

"Would you care to do the honors?" Angel asked, offering the flowers to his companion.

Gulping, Xander nodded. As he lay the wreath down upon the ground, he flashed back to his last ever meeting with Joyce; and the young man remembered the unaccountably bad feeling he'd gotten, that – for some reason – he would never see the Summers woman again. ( _Guess I wasn't wrong about that, despite the weird-ass circumstances._ )

"What happened, exactly?" Xander asked Angel, laying off the attitude for once. "I know you personally weren't around then, but Cordelia doesn't know details and all the others are gonna get too choked up and teary-eyed if I ask. Plus I figure since you and Buffy are sleeping together, you pretty much have to know what's the what."

( _Xander's obviously not a paragon of tact now, any more than he was then..._ ) the formerly undead detective reflected. Then Angel shook his head and considered how to best answer the question.

"Joyce had some medical problems, and the doctors eventually found a shadow in her brain – one that turned out to be a tumor. After the surgery, she seemed well along the road to making a full recovery. Until the day Buffy came home, and found her laying dead on the couch. Nothing supernatural about it," Angel shrugged. "The poor woman's head just – self-destructed. Joyce's neurosurgeon tried to explain it to everyone later, how aneurysms are like minefields hidden in the brain. You can't predict when they'll show up, or what might cause them to detonate. His explanation didn't help much, though."

( _I bet it didn't,_ ) Xander thought sourly, before he leaned down and gently kissed the cold stone in order to say goodbye to the woman who'd often felt like more of a mother to him than Jessica Harris. ( _Sorry I couldn't be here to save you, Mrs. Summers. So rest in peace, and I hope you keep watching over everyone from up there._ )

Xander then turned back to Angel. He looked him over and said, "So. How's it feel finally becoming a real boy?"

"Confusing, at times. And I've been wanting to talk to you about how you coped fighting like this, back in the old days. Especially now that you're different," Angel replied.

"I didn't cope, bottom line. And what do you mean, different?"

"Xander, that teenage clown I remember wouldn't have been able to survive everything you've been though. You had to either massively adapt or die; especially in regard to what happened concerning Darla and Drusilla. Not to mention coping with being sent to prison like Faith..."

"Do you want to hear something funny? You and I have a mutual acquaintance who got me out of that jail, her name's Lilah Morgan," Xander said straightforwardly, ignoring the surprised expression on Angel's face. "The deal was simple; dust Darla and Drusilla ASAP, but leave you out of it. So, do you have a problem with what I did to your sire?"

"No," Angel shook his head. "I tried to save Darla as a human, but Dru turned her back into a vampire with Lindsey's help – and after that, it was too late for anything except staking her. I would have done it myself, if you hadn't beaten me to the punch. Same with Drusilla. So what happened there, exactly?"

"Chased her for a helluva long time, but she eventually died in Pylea. Only thing I regret is that I wasn't close enough to see it happen," Xander told Angel unapologetically. "It's odd, ya know; vampires can actually walk in the sunlight there. You can also see the demon – how should I put this – au naturel, instead of the hybrid form you see here. Not a pretty sight, I can tell you; and at the time I found myself wishing I could have shown Buffy what Angelus really looked like, without being able to use your face as a disguise. Lot of things would have ended up different, I'm sure."

"You're going back there once this Illyria thing has been dealt with, aren't you?" Angel asked, feeling more than a little unsettled from Xander's information.

"Yeah. Pylea's my home nowadays," Xander shrugged, turning to look at Joyce's grave.

"A demon dimension?" Angel asked incredulously.

"It's not a hell world like your demon buddy said it is, even though I'll admit it can feel that way sometimes," Xander turned to face Angel again. "Believe it or not, things actually make sense to me there; a lot more than they ever did here, anyway. Like, the free humans in Pylea aren't sheep, and if you see a demon of any kind you kill it before it kills you – because there's no Slayer to fight your battles for you. I've found a place where I can make a difference that'll actually be appreciated; which, back in the day, was all I ever wanted. And at least in Pylea, I don't have to worry about the Order of Taraka coming after me."

"The Order of Taraka isn't after you, not anymore – I mean, Faith's told me how the contract on your life would have been terminated after the Mayor's death," Angel pointed out.

"Even if that's true – and considering the source, I have my doubts – you weren't there that night when I shot that assassin, after she'd murdered Detective Stein," Xander told Angel forcefully. "Even if her people aren't after me officially, the fake Police Lady would still show up and try to kill me if she learns I've come back to this world. Believe me, nowadays, I know her type well enough to be sure of that."

"Care to explain what you mean by that statement?"

Xander looked the older man directly in the eye. "When I ended up in Stateville I was the new fish, barely nineteen years old; the kind of inmate that all the other prisoners consider free game, if ya know what I mean. Sure, after they saw how I could actually defend myself in a fight – it's amazing how much easier it is to fight humans instead of vampires, as I'm sure you've discovered by now – most of General Population left me alone. But one of the weightlifters in the prison yard, he decided he wanted to make me into his personal fuck buddy. I refused. Wanna guess how that ended?"

"He didn't take no for an answer," Angel said calmly.

"No shit he didn't. Luckily someone else jammed a shiv into his heart for something or other, before anything too bad happened to me. But I'll never forget the look on Thompson's face as he told me I was a dead man for managing to fight him off. It was identical to the look that woman from the Order of Taraka had on her face, when she said the exact same thing," Xander said with an inscrutable expression.

"And here I thought my crew and I had problems trying to deal with Spike and Harmony," Angel chuckled, trying to lighten the mood a little. He had already decided not to share any of this with any of the others, even though he doubted Xander would care if anyone and everyone in the Scooby Gang found out.

"Spike and Harmony, huh? The way I heard it last night, those two vamps actually created a human kid together?" Xander responded to Angel's comment with an odd look on his face.

"Yeah. I wasn't there anymore by the time William junior was born, though. And as I recall, Harry was adamant about not setting foot in the hotel while Harmony was there – not after that firebug lost it and tried to snack on Harry's neck one time," Angel snorted and shook his head at the memory.

"Harry?" Xander suddenly had a terrible feeling, as he began to recall that dream he'd had yesterday morning.

"My seer, my connection to the Powers That Be. Well, technically she's Wesley's Vision Girl now – Xander, what's wrong?" Angel couldn't help noticing how pale the other man was looking, and the way he had started gazing at the wooden splinter still lodged within his right palm.

Harris looked up. "Okay, I gotta ask – blonde hair, average height, in her early thirties or thereabouts?" After the head nod Harris added, "When was the last time you spoke with this woman?"

"A few days ago, why?" Angel was starting to get a very bad feeling about this.

"Geez, I shoulda mentioned this last night, but I guess I forgot what with everything that was happening – look, I hope to hell I'm wrong, but I think she's dead," Xander confessed.

"WHAT?" Angel shouted.

"I had a weird kind of dream after I washed up on the beach yesterday," Xander explained. "Some woman I'd never met before gave me a magical mystery tour of her favorite places in this world, and she did something magic-y to my right hand – plus she said everyone called her Harry, and that she used to be your seer, but she'd been killed just a few minutes earlier..."

Angel didn't waste time with a reply; he ran straight back to his car with Xander close behind and immediately headed for the Magic Box. Unfortunately, neither man had a cell phone to call Los Angeles direct, not that the former vampire would have found it easy to use such a thing even if one was available.

When Angel burst into Slayer Central, his worst fears were instantly realized – as waiting for him alongside Tara were Oz and Wesley, and the expressions on the faces of his two former teammates said it all.

Angel instantly blamed himself for Harry's death, whether or not that was the right thing to do.

* * *

><p><strong>4 Parkview Crescent, Sunnydale<strong>

**March 13th, 2004**

The clock struck midnight as Xander finally arrived back at the Chase pool house, after the gang had spent a gruelling afternoon and evening trying to find out all they could about Illyria.

It was unfortunate how most of the Scoobies were delayed in joining the party, but the adults all had jobs which couldn't just be abandoned and ignored (unless the apocalypse itself had started), and Dawn had school and even afterschool activities that she couldn't get out of. Still, once they all got there, the Sunnydale crowd expressed their sympathies for Harry's loss, and dived in on ways to stop the Old One responsible.

So far, they didn't have much. The Wolfram & Hart file – assuming the information blithely handed over by Team Evil could be trusted – described Illyria's various strengths including tremendous physical power, invulnerability, shape-shifting, empathic ability, opening portals to other dimensions, and the capability to alter time. But there was depressingly little on the Old One's weaknesses, even though there was mention of something called a 'Mutari generator' that might be able to drain Illyria's powers enough for the demon to be killed within its human shell.

( _To think, Lilah's dead – and there's an unkillable demon running around in what used to be her body,_ ) Xander mused as he flicked on the light inside the pool house. ( _Kinda reminds me of that situation concerning the Judge, except a rocket launcher isn't gonna cut it on this one. And I'M the one who's supposed to stop her? How the heck am I supposed to do that? I'm the normal one around here..._ )

Then Harris looked down at the splinter of wood in his right hand, recalling what the Oracle and Harry Doyle had told him. ( _Well, anyway, I used to be..._ )

"It's about time you got here!"

Xander turned around to see Cordelia standing there. "Cordy? What the hell are you doing here at this time of night?"

"Waiting for you, of course! All right, I also got sick and tired of listening to Timmy ordering me to throw you outta here," Cordelia said with a rather extravagant hand gesture. "Plus, I wanted to find out if the world's gonna be ending anytime soon. It's not like any of your friends are gonna pick up the phone and tell ME anything-"

"Dawn would, I'm pretty sure," Xander interrupted. He had spoken with the girl, and she had also suggested that he talk to Oz concerning the events of five years ago. Harris had subsequently told the werewolf not to beat himself up about what had happened at Graduation; the Halloween soldier memories had already begun to fade by then, and he might have screwed up the exact same way. "And as far as I know, the Earth should still be here tomorrow morning."

"Well, thank God," Cordelia said, before she picked up a bottle of tequila. "Want some?"

"No thanks," Xander shook his head. "Been a long day, I just wanna get some sleep."

"You're gonna leave if we survive what's coming, aren't you?" Ms. Chase asked unexpectedly. "I'll be lucky if I get so much as a goodbye out of you before you disappear out of my life again – just like last time."

Xander exhaled. "That wasn't exactly pre-planned-"

"I have a question for you, Harris," Cordelia cut him off. "Say I'd been at home that night you left, instead of talking with Wesley at his place, and I'd received your little farewell phone call. Would you have arranged to meet with me in LA after Graduation? Or would you have gone your own way and left me behind, like you did everyone else?"

"I don't know, I never thought about it..." Xander shrugged. "Doesn't really matter now, though, does it? What's done is done, and for better or worse, we can't change the past."

"Do you have anyone special waiting for you in this Pylea place? A wife, a girlfriend, anyone like that?" Cordelia demanded, abruptly switching topics.

"No. There hasn't been anybody like that in my life since, well, you. Hell, the last date I ever had was with that Anya girl," Xander chuckled briefly, wondering what had happened to that former demoness. "Again, why do you ask?"

"You mean your Prom date? THAT was the last time you went out with a woman?" Cordelia exclaimed in disbelief, ignoring his question. "What kind of a life have you been living since high school?"

"I already told you that yesterday, and last night at Buffy's place. Look, Cordelia, could we please continue this in the morning?" Xander asked her again. "Like I said, I'm pretty beat."

"One last question. Did you ever think about me after you left Sunnyhell? Ever? Even one time?" Cordelia demanded.

"Yeah, I sure did," Xander nodded, recalling that day in Pylea where Drusilla, for some bizarre reason known only to herself and the gods above and below, had assumed Cordelia's likeness to make out with him.

Not that Harris ever intended to mention that particular occurrence to his former girlfriend, if he wanted to keep the Harris family jewels intact. "Why?"

"Oh my God, lack brain – did it never occur to you that I might have MISSED you?" Cordelia exploded violently. "I may have been totally drunk during Prom night, but there was a reason why I tried to drag you into that damned utility closet! And sure, I was pissed after I found out you'd had sex with the Slayer skank; but again, there was a reason for that other than thinking you'd cheated on me with yet another girl! You saved me from social humiliation when you bought me that dress, you saved my life when you convinced Faith to let me go, you made me want to forgive you for what you did with Willow, and even though it hasn't been for lack of trying – I haven't found any guy that's been able to make me forget about you! So what does all that say to you, you PUTZ?"

"Uh..." poor old Xander stammered, totally unprepared for the verbal onslaught the brunette had unleashed upon him.

"Oh, screw this-!" Cordy snarled, before viciously slamming her lips onto Xander's and forcefully dragging him up to the emergency bed on the second floor of the pool house.

Not far away, Patrice's informant code-named 'Jellyfish' used a pair of binoculars to see what was happening through the upstairs window of the pool house, as the duo's clothes started flying and the naked flesh soon appeared. ( _Oh, no. Not good!_ )

But he did nothing to interfere, and not long afterwards...a high school romance between a totally mismatched couple that had gone so terribly, horribly wrong was – finally – fully consummated.

* * *

><p><strong>Sunnydale town limits, southern California<strong>

**Approximately eighteen hours later**

The five-year high school reunion was due to start soon within the Sunnydale High gymnasium, but that meant nothing to Illyria – who had finally made her way back to Los Angeles, and subsequently marched eighty miles north here to the Hellmouth, given how she cared nothing for modern human methods of transportation despite Lilah's memories on the subject.

( _At last!_ ) the Old One thought to herself triumphantly, mystically sensing her objective as she arrived in Sunnydale. ( _At long last, my work is about to begin!_ )

Illyria unerringly made her way to the high school, briefly surprised at perceiving just how much more supernatural power this portal was emitting now, compared to the Primordial Age. ( _No matter; the more power the better! All that matters is victory! My time will come again, and this time around, my reign – my kingdom – will last for all eternity! _)

The demon in human form headed for the principal's office; the place where the library in Sunnydale High version 1.0 used to be. This was where the Hellmouth was physically located; Ground Zero, as it were. The office was empty as, unlike the late Robin Wood, the black man's successor did not feel the need to be here on a Saturday night helping to safeguard the Earth from the forces of Evil.

Illyria smashed down the office door, and quickly stood directly on top of the Hellmouth. The Old One began her ritual and was about to activate her time-alteration power, when all of a sudden...

"Who are you?" Willow asked, upon seeing the blue-haired woman within the principal's office. She was here in part because of Xander's warning at Buffy's house two nights ago, and then the redhead's eyes went wide as she recognized Wesley's description of the Old One. "Oh, Goddess, wait-"

"ENOUGH!" Illyria screamed. Thrusting her arms out wide and shutting her eyes, the ancient demon concluded her unholy rite...

...but, as was so often the case in Sunnydale, something went wrong.

A bolt of energy passed from Illyria's body to Willow's and then vice versa, the Old One's dark magicks resonating with those inside the non-practicing witch to create a spatial rift within the school office. That rift grew, expanding through the high school and encapsulating the entire town, an anomaly permeating the normal four-dimensional space-time continuum like a tear in reality. Like a ticking time bomb.

Until the time bomb finally exploded, and the space-time integrity of Sunnydale completely SHATTERED.

TBC...


	11. Shatterday

See Chapter One for disclaimer and details. Hello all, and welcome to the latest chapter! Thanks to everybody who's been reading, reviewing and sending feedback, as always I'm most grateful for it (and I hope it won't end anytime soon!). Okay, three things: (1) The fic is going to be mostly Xander-centric for the next few chapters, I just wanted to mention that in advance. (2) I decided to skip the whole "Willow's a lesbian now?" scene in the upcoming Xander-Tara conversation, it's all been said and done before – imagine, if you wish, that Harris basically just shrugged and accepted it after being told the news. (3) This is the point where I 'borrow' from the plot of the Star Trek Voyager episode named "Shattered", which originally formed the basis of the story last year during one of my conversations with Nodakskip! So I hope you enjoy...

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eleven: Shatterday<strong>

**The Magic Box, Sunnydale**

**March 13th, 2004**

Very much like when he had been a teenager, Xander couldn't stop thinking about sex while he was supposed to be on research duty.

Last night with Cordelia had been – well, 'incredible' didn't even begin to come close to defining it. The sex had been amazing, earth-shattering, even completely mind-blowing; a melding of bodies that had resulted in something close to combined bliss and ecstasy. Cordelia Chase had taught him things that Xander had never even imagined possible, given the sort of life he'd led since high school. Things he had never learned with Faith, when he had lost his virginity to her.

It hadn't been planned – well, at least not by him – but it had nonetheless been the wildest experience Xander had ever had.

That didn't mean that everything was now suddenly perfect between Harris and his ex-girlfriend, though. Far from it; the morning-after scene within the mansion had been rather unpleasant, after Xander had woken up alone in the pool house bed:

"Why'd you take off so early?"

"Because – I think last night might have been a mistake, Xander. I mean we're twenty-three years old, and yet we started arguing and making out like high school was just yesterday? And yeah, it was the best sex I've ever had, but..."

A grin. "Really? I'm the best you've ever had?"

A growl. "See, here I am trying to be an adult, and you're still acting like you're a horny teenager! You haven't told me hardly anything about the last five years yet, plus I saw all those scars on your chest and back when we got naked last night. Mister, it's like I don't know the first thing about you anymore!"

( _I guess Cordy had a point about that,_ ) Xander thought to himself as he leaned back in his chair, abandoning his attempts to discover any weaknesses Illyria might possess. ( _Still, what was I supposed to say? That life in prison and fighting against the demons in Pylea is bound to leave souvenirs? Damn it, I still haven't told her exactly where it is I live nowadays! Cordy's gonna freak out when I do – and that's gonna be nothing compared to Buffy and Willow's reactions! _)

Xander exhaled. He knew that Angel had not enlightened the others about the demon dimension in question, as the ex-vampire was still hoping that his acquaintance (they were not now, never had been, and most likely never would be friends) would personally confess about what Pylea was. Harris was appreciative of that, but at the same time, he simply hadn't been able to bring himself to do it.

Not out of fear, but out of wanting to avoid a pointless conversation-slash-shouting match that would only further tarnish his memories of Buffy and Willow in the years to come.

"Um, Mr. Har – I mean, uh, Xander?" Tara stumbled over her words, looking very uncomfortable.

"Yes, Tara? And please, call me whatever makes you feel most at ease," Xander said, trying to be polite.

"Thanks. It's just, I need to close up the store," Tara explained, relaxing a little. "Willow and I are going to the high school reunion tonight, so I need to go home and get changed."

"You want me to go? Okay, well, I can take most of the books I still need to look through with me," Xander said as he got up off of the chair, wondering if he should join Wesley at his motel room.

"No! Uh, I mean, you can stay here as long as you want. Any friend of Willow's..." Tara trailed off. "Err, that is..."

"I'm sorry if I'm making you uncomfortable," Xander said straightforwardly, but choosing to avoid addressing the whole complicated 'friendship' issue. "And I'm sorry if this..." he held up his right hand, indicating the splinter of wood present, "...hurt you two days ago. Not that I had any control over it, but I still feel kinda responsible for what happened."

"I'm fine now," Tara shook her head. She started to head for the door, but then she stopped. "Um, before I go – could we talk?"

"Sure. About what?"

"Willow."

"What about her?" Xander frowned.

"I'm not sure if I should be telling you this; b-but she was crying last night, a-and this morning as well," Tara confessed nervously. "The thing is I, uh, I never knew all the details about what happened with you and her and Buffy and Giles, u-until recently. From the way they described it whenever your name came up, I, I got the impression that you...well, you were someone who shouldn't ever have gotten involved with fighting against the supernatural, because you, you didn't have any, um, powers of your own."

Xander nodded slowly. "That sounds like the people I remember, all right."

"But now – I realize they were wrong," the blonde witch said timidly. "And what they did five years ago was wrong. I, I think Willow knows that now. So if it's not asking too much, I-I-I was kinda hoping that you and her could talk?"

"Okay, but if this is gonna be honesty time, I don't think it'd do much good," Xander told the Maclay woman. "The thing is, Tara, there are no hard feelings on my part anymore; towards Will or any of the others. But your girlfriend – I think she wants something I can't give her. Namely, the Xander Harris I used to be before everything ended up totally FUBAR."

"You've changed, I get that. But so has Willow, so has everyone!" Tara said urgently, forgetting her shyness the further the conversation progressed.

"I don't think Buffy has, at least not where I'm concerned," Xander pointed out. "Look, the simple fact is that you people have your lives now, and I have mine. And once all this is over, I'm planning to head back to where I came from."

"A, a demon dimension?" Off Xander's look of surprise, Tara held up a book called _Rhinehardt's Compendium_. "I did some research on this Pylea place. A-and from what I've read – well, why would you ever want to go back there?"

"You can ask Angel about my reasons, I've already had this conversation with him," Xander told her. "And no offense, but I don't think we know each other well enough yet to-"

At that moment, thanks to what was transpiring within the principal's office at the high school, reality throughout the Sunnydale town limits shattered – and a blue-white light instantly encapsulated Xander Harris, before he started screaming in pain and fell to the floor.

* * *

><p><strong>The Magic Box, Sunnydale<strong>

**A few moments later**

"Are you okay? Are you all right?"

"Uggh..." Xander groaned, returning to consciousness. His heart was beating way too fast, and his head felt like it had been used as a football in the Stateville prison yard. "Wha' happen?"

"You can talk, good," Tara's voice became clearer as the pain in Xander's head subsided. "I, I was kinda worried you were...damaged."

"Damaged?" Xander started to get up as he opened his eyes.

"Maybe you should lie still for a bit longer, I think y-your body was in a-a-a state of temporal flux," Tara explained hurriedly.

"Temporal flux?" Xander didn't get that, even as he noticed that the clothes Tara had on now were different to what she'd been wearing a few seconds ago. Not that that was as high a priority right now as his aching head, of course.

"Well, for a few moments – you, uh, you had the face of an eighty-year-old man and the body of a six-year-old boy, a-a-and then vice versa," Tara explained with a slight stammer. "I, I'd never seen anything like it."

"Great. Obviously the old Harris luck is back," Xander complained. "Why the hell would that have happened to me?" He then briefly glanced down at the splinter of wood in his hand, wondering if the Oracle had anything to do with this.

"Is, is that your name? Harris?" Tara asked, before her eyes went wide with recognition. "Are you Xander Harris? Willow's friend from high school?"

Xander blinked, as he turned around to stare at the blonde woman. "Huh? Miss Maclay – Tara – don't you remember me anymore?"

"Remember you? I-I've never met you before now," Tara stammered as she started to back away.

"You've never – wait, hang on, something weird is happening! Business as usual for Sunnydale, I know, but bear with me," Xander rubbed his forehead gently. "Okay, look, the way I remember it, I came back to Sunnydale and met you two days ago. That is – you ARE Tara Maclay, right? The Tara who's gonna be attending the five-year high school reunion with Willow, in a few minutes?"

Tara's eyes went wide. "What – what's the date, a-as far as you're concerned?"

"It's March 13th, of course. Why do you-?"

"No, it's not. And it's not 2004 either – today is December 15th, 2002," the Wiccan said honestly. "If you're telling the truth, I-I think you've just travelled backwards in time. Um, that would explain how you, you just appeared out of nowhere a few seconds ago?"

"Oh, crap," Xander cursed, thinking that that would explain why Tara was now dressed differently. "Damn it, that's all I need right now! How the hell did THAT happen?"

"I don't know," Tara shrugged. "So, you didn't do this deliberately in the future?"

"No. Okay, we need the big Watcher brains on this! Giles and Wesley – no, wait, Wes would still be in LA right now, wouldn't he?" Xander asked, rubbing the back of his head. The sad fact was he couldn't be sure, there was too much he hadn't learned yet after being absent from everyone's lives for so long. "I dunno. All I know is, I hate time travel!"

"You've done this before? No, don't tell me; i-i-it's better if I don't, if I don't know," Tara stammered. "I, um, I probably already know too much..."

So saying, she called Giles at the high school to tell him she was on her way there with Xander. Nobody answered the phone, though; so, assuming he wasn't there, the witch and her companion decided to head over to Rupert's apartment in Tara's car, after Ms. Maclay locked up the magic shop behind them.

Funny thing, though – less than a minute into the journey, both Tara and her vehicle disappeared, day became night and Xander flew forward by momentum to land on the hard asphalt, with sheer chaos all around him.

* * *

><p><strong>Main Street, Sunnydale<strong>

**The next moment**

Picking himself up, Xander took a moment to see monsters and demons openly running around – so, bruised and bleeding from a slight cut on his head, Harris quickly took cover behind the nearest pole, wondering what the hell was going on.

( _If this is a dream, then I DEFINITELY need to see a psychiatrist,_ ) Xander thought to himself pessimistically, before spotting something vaguely familiar. ( _Wait a minute, isn't that-?_ )

Indeed it was. The lumbering Bigfoot he had encountered seven years ago, the creature that had chased after Cordelia and ripped her clothes; even though the brunette girl was currently nowhere in sight. Xander quickly concluded that he somehow must have been thrown back even further in time, and to this night of all nights...

...October 31st, 1997. The evening where Halloween had gained a brand-new meaning for just about everyone in the old Scooby Gang.

( _Great. What am I gonna do now?_ ) Harris thought to himself acidly. ( _Even though it's the closest semi-safe territory, I can't go to Buffy's house; no way do I want to encounter my past self there! Let's see; Giles was at the library that night, or at least that's where he was before he went to kick the ass of that Ethan Rayne guy. Maybe I should just go there myself, save him the trouble?_ )

"Well, who do we have 'ere? I do believe it's the little nummy treat Angelus offered to me durin' Parent-Teacher Night!" a somewhat familiar and accented voice said behind him, as Xander whirled around to see a grinning, soulless, unchipped Spike. Then the platinum-haired vampire frowned. "Hang about; how'd ya get so bloody thin so fast? And what's with you no longer lookin' like a teenage git?"

"Walk away, Spike," Xander warned him, as the splinter of wood in his hand briefly glowed aquamarine. "Because you don't want to know the answers to those questions – and I can't afford to tell you the truth, as much as I'd like to. So just go home to your nutcase Drusilla while you've still got her, Billy Idol."

William the Bloody snarled, insulted beyond his ability to tolerate and his face morphing into its demonic aspect. Just for a moment, Xander could almost see the Van-tal demon within the human host – before another inhuman growl from Spike brought Harris back to reality.

"You don't talk that way 'bout my princess – and that ruddy bastard stole the look from ME, not the other way around!" Without another word, the undead guy then lunged forward towards Xander's neck...

...before the splinter of the Oracle enlarged, becoming a wooden stake clutched in Xander's right hand that he automatically held up towards Spike's heart, allowing the British vampire to impale himself on the weapon.

"Oh, bloody hell..." Spike managed to get out in dismay before he exploded into dust, the inner skeleton briefly becoming visible as the youngest member of the Scourge of Europe was erased from existence.

( _Holy crap, what have I done?_ ) Xander thought to himself numbly as he stared at the stake in his hand, which then shrank back into its splinter form. ( _How did that thing just-? No, doesn't matter right now. But have I just changed EVERYTHING in the future? Sure, it was either me or him, but – what the hell's gonna happen now that Spike's dust? Okay, never mind – less thinking, more running!_ )

So he ran, avoiding all the deadly Halloween monsters as best he could, until after Xander ran past the corner of Hadley Street and Revello Drive – night became day again, and calm ruled the peaceful suburban streets of Sunnydale once more.

* * *

><p><strong>Outside 1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale<strong>

**A few minutes later**

Xander stood in front of Buffy's house, drawn here like a moth to a flame. He simply couldn't help it; this particular residence had been such a huge part of his life during his teenage years, that even now it had exerted its powerful magnetic pull on him.

( _I wonder who lives here right now?_ ) Harris asked himself. ( _Because I have no idea WHEN I am! And geez louise, am I getting that jaded that not even the concept of time travel freaks me out? No, damn it, focus! I gotta head for Giles' place, not risk altering history further by knocking on Buffy's door!_ )

Unfortunately Joyce opened the front door to go sit on the porch swing for a while, and she spotted the stranger staring at her house just as he was about to leave. "Hello? Can I help you?"

Mouth dry, Xander saw Buffy's mother approach him. Even though he'd been prepared for this possibility on one level, actually seeing the woman alive again after visiting her grave yesterday was a bit of a shock. "Um, hi..."

"Your head is bleeding," Joyce said in concern, as she examined the man in question. "Wait a minute, aren't you Buffy's friend from school? No, you can't be, you're much thinner and that Xander boy is much younger than you. Still, the resemblance is remarkable! Oh, where are my manners? Hello, I'm Joyce Summers," the middle-aged woman introduced herself politely.

"LaVelle Harris," Xander introduced himself, sticking out his right hand and opting to use his hated middle name to avoid complications. "Xander's my, ah, younger cousin."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Mr. Harris," Joyce briefly shook hands with him. "Please, come on in and I'll take care of that cut on your head. Were you in some sort of accident?"

"Uh, sorta. Fell out of a moving car just a few minutes ago, actually," Xander said truthfully as he followed Joyce inside.

"Oh dear. Should I call an ambulance, are you badly injured?" Joyce started to fuss like the worried mother she was.

"No, uh, I'm just little banged up, I'll be fine – no broken bones or anything," Xander reassured her.

"Well, if you say so," the Summers woman said as she led the way to her kitchen. She quickly sought out a band-aid and some disinfectant, while Xander sneaked a look at today's edition of the Sunnydale Press sitting on the kitchen table.

( _Sweet Odin, it's February 24th 1997,_ ) Harris thought to himself, shutting his eyes as Joyce attended to his minor wound. ( _And Mrs. S has got barely four years left to live – what do I do? Warn her what's gonna happen? Sure, like she's gonna believe a complete stranger telling her that she's gonna drop dead after she develops a tumor in a few years' time. Still, I gotta do SOMETHING!_ )

"Is something wrong?" Joyce could not help noting how stiff her companion had suddenly become.

"I'm sorry. It's just – you remind me of a woman I knew. I've been away from Sunnydale for a long time, and, uh, I recently came back and found out she'd passed away three years ago," Xander ad-libbed as best he could. "She had a brain tumor, and after the operation there was a – well, she died after an aneurysm struck without warning."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Joyce said sympathetically. "Did you know her well?"

"Yeah," Xander said thickly. "You don't think these things will ever happen to the people you know – but they do. They really do. Ma'am, not that I'd ever wish something like that on you, but if you EVER have a health scare like that? Don't just take the doctor's word for it that you'll be fine after the operation. Believe me – it's better to be safe than sorry, especially if you've got a family who needs you."

* * *

><p><strong>Prescott Lane, Sunnydale<strong>

**Half an hour later**

Xander hurried along the street parked with futuristic cars, no longer having any idea when or even precisely where he was.

After leaving the somewhat bemused Joyce behind, Harris had continued on his quest to reach the Watcher's residence. He had gone through two more – even with his sci-fi geek background, the most appropriate term Xander could think up was 'temporal translocations' – and he had not enjoyed either experience very much.

The first one had been a jaunt back to what looked like the 1890's, where Xander had witnessed Mayor Richard Wilkins walking the streets in period clothing; and where he had stood out like the Future Boy he was. The second must have been some time prior to the March of 1998, as he had seen the woman named Jenny Calendar – the Computer Science teacher and undercover gypsy spy Angelus had gleefully murdered – drive past him in her car, blissfully ignorant of his shouted attempts to gain her attention.

( _Man, this sucks,_ ) Xander thought grumpily to himself, before he finally spotted a familiar landmark and figured out where he was. ( _Okay, enough with the complaints and pity party; they're not worth a Gathwok demon's droppings! Giles' place is only a little bit up the road, you've almost made it. Just keep alert..._ )

Luckily, there were no more surprises as Harris made his way to Apartment B of 523 Oak Park Street. The place still looked pretty much as he remembered it, and praying that he had not wasted his time coming here, Xander knocked three times on the door.

"Yes-? XANDER!" a grey-blonde, fifty-something version of Buffy instantly hurled herself into the young man's arms, squeezing him tightly with all her strength.

"OW!" Xander yelped. "Ribs! Lungs! Oxygen!"

"I'm sorry! It's just – you're here. At last, you're here!" Buffy chattered excitedly, letting go and dragging him inside the house. "Way too thin-looking, just like I remember, but still – you're finally here!"

( _She's been expecting me-?_ ) Xander thought in a rather befuddled way as the middle-aged Slayer pulled him into the living room. "What's going on, Buffy?"

"What's going on? The end of thirty years' worth of waiting, boy," a crotchety old man's voice said with a faded British accent, as Buffy and Xander entered the living room – and Harris saw an eighty-year-old version of Giles.

The shock of seeing the white-haired aged individual sitting in an old-fashioned rocking chair was almost overwhelming to Harris. "Giles? Is that you?"

"'Course it's me, you silly bugger," Rupert looked annoyed by the question. "And before you ask, yes – this is the future as far as you're concerned, the year's 2034. Certainly took you long enough to get here, you slowpoke!"

Annoyed by the abrasive and patronizing tone, Xander counted to ten before he bent down to look the former librarian right in the eye. "Let's get something straight right now – I didn't come here for a lecture, so keep the insults to yourself. You've got information that'll explain what the hell's happened to me over the last hour or so, I'm grateful for it. You act like you've still got that same stick up your ass that you did in high school, I can walk out that door right now-"

"NO!" Buffy interjected, looking horrified. "Xander, you mustn't do that. We need you! You're the only one that can make things right! Please, don't go..."

"Okay, did I just hear that correctly? Buffy Summers actually needs MY help, instead of telling me to stay out of this 'for my own good'? I really have stepped into the Twilight Zone," Xander said snippily, unable to help himself.

"If only we were so lucky," a male voice said from the second floor of the house, before a fifty-something version of Angel came down the stairs and joined the rest of the group. "Hello, Xander."

"Dea – sorry, Angel," Xander managed to correct himself in time, greeting the new arrival while noting all his amazingly grey hair.

"Is he giving you a rough time, love?" Angel asked Buffy, as the woman almost melted into his arms with an unhappy expression on her face.

"No more than I expected, husband mine," Buffy replied, just as Xander noticed the wedding rings on their fingers.

"You two got married? Huh. Well, I guess that's not entirely unexpected," Xander nodded. "Congratulations, and all that."

"Could we bleeding well get on with it? I'm not getting any younger over here, you know!" Giles snapped from his chair in the middle of the room. Obviously, patience was not a strong point for this Englishman – who had not aged gracefully in the slightest.

"Okay, G-man, lay it on me," Xander with a wide smirk, even as Rupert glared in his direction for the deplorable nickname. "Can you tell me why I've been travelling in time since the moment I collapsed screaming in the Magic Box?"

"You haven't been travelling in time, Xander," Buffy said, much to the young man's surprise.

"Yeah, I'm afraid it's much worse than that," Angel added.

"What-chu talkin' about, Angel?" Harris asked.

"It's all that damned demon's fault, that Illyria thing," Giles spoke up, sounding very irritated. "Still believing it was the bloody god-king of the entire universe. What was it thinking, doing that ritual on top of the Hellmouth? Lunacy, that's what it was. Sheer lunacy!"

"Ritual? I'm kinda lost here; just what kinda ritual did Illyria do?" Xander demanded.

"All we know is what you yourself told us, thirty years ago," Angel replied. "Illyria came up with a plan to travel back millions of years to her own time, the Primordial Age. But something went wrong – Willow showed up at the worst possible moment, there was a magical surge of some kind, and the space-time continuum was practically torn apart."

"Torn apart?"

"Reality was shattered into different time zones. Thirty-seven of them, actually, thirty-six of which correspond to a ten degree line of sight: with the last zone containing the Hellmouth at the epicentre. If you had retraced your steps at any point in your journey here, you would have encountered the same time periods all over again," Angel explained.

Xander tried to work it through in his head. "So, when I staked Spike in the Halloween time zone, and tried to warn Buffy's mom about the aneurysm during sophomore year...?"

Buffy shook her head. "It wouldn't have – it DIDN'T make any difference. My mother died thirty-three years ago, and as far as I know, Spike's still here in Sunnydale. He's even a grandfather nowadays, after his son William and Dawn got married and they had three kids together."

Somewhat stunned by that news, Xander stared at the Slayer and her husband. "Wow. Okay. So, just outta interest, what about you two? How many kids did you have, if any?"

"Just the one, Joyce. We called her 'Joy' for short, though," Buffy said with a big smile. "Mostly because that's what she is, to all of us who know her."

"Can we PLEASE get on with important matters?" Giles said irascibly. "Because you died around seventeen years ago, boy, and this is like trying to have a conversation with your ghost or something!"

"GILES!" Buffy said aghast, even as Xander looked shocked at hearing that news.

"What? I'm not going to tell him anything else, but it might actually make him think twice before abandoning that Cordelia girl; God rest her soul," the old man grumbled with an appalling lack of consideration.

"WHAT?" Xander shouted, not wanting to believe what he was hearing. "Cordy's DEAD?"

"No one lives forever, boy. 'Specially not on a ruddy Hellmouth," Giles said, rocking back and forth. "But you, you can change it all. That's the whole effing point! It's why I forced myself to live here for thirty years, instead of going home to England!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Xander said angrily.

"Like I said before – different areas of Sunnydale correspond to different time periods, because the local space-time was ripped apart at the seams. And none of us can travel between the different time zones, Xander; believe me, we've tried for three decades to figure out how. But only you can do that. We think that's why the Oracle did what it did, why Harry did what she did, and even why Drusilla did what she did all those years ago," Angel explained. "Look, what you need to do is stitch the space-time continuum back together, get to the time period corresponding to when Illyria cast her spell, and stop her from doing that ritual in the high school principal's office."

( _He's not asking for much, is he?_ ) "And what if I fail to do that?" Xander asked.

"Well, from our point of view, you've already done it," Buffy said encouragingly. "I mean, you told us-"

"No, Buffy; it's not that simple," Xander cut her off. "From MY point of view, none of that's taken place yet. If what I've heard is true, all this is just one possible future; so forget that whole 'it's already happened' thing, okay? If there's one thing I'm certain of in this life, it's that nothing is ever set in stone! I was almost killed half a dozen times getting this far, since I left the Magic Box. So what if I die, before I'm able to do what needs to be done?"

"The entire world is doomed, once the mystical barriers surrounding Sunnydale fail – and the contagion spreads all over the planet," Giles said with a grim air of finality.

TBC...


	12. A Stitch In Time

See Chapter One for disclaimer and details. Hi there, and happy Easter everyone! Welcome to the latest segment of this story, and thanks as always to everyone who's been reading and reviewing the fic (please keep it up). Not much else to say except that for this chapter, I had to violate my personal vow of not using any information from the comics (bleagh). Unfortunately, there was no other choice given what I wanted simply wasn't mentioned on the show(s), and it was only to fill a minor plot hole, so I figured what the hell...oh, and sorry if my Latin sucks, by the way. I didn't have a dictionary to consult, and Internet translation sites are iffy at best...

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twelve: A Stitch In Time<strong>

**523B Oak Park Street, Sunnydale**

**July 3rd, 2034 (local time)**

"So. How did Cordelia die?"

( _And here I thought Xander would want to know details about how HE ended up dead, nearly two decades ago._ ) Buffy was somewhat surprised to hear that question as Angel went upstairs to get something, and Giles started mumbling to himself about demons, and Ethan Rayne, and quite a number of other matters.

But then the Slayer reminded herself that Xander had never believed in letting others decide your destiny for you; so, in that context, it wasn't surprising how the guy was more concerned about his ex-girlfriend's demise than his own.

"Cordy died when her house was blown up by a bomb, after you went back to Pylea," Buffy eventually replied. "But we never found out who did it."

"Why not?"

"It wasn't from lack of trying, if that's what you're insinuating," the grey-blonde woman said in annoyance. "Everyone did their best, but there were no witnesses, no fingerprints, no nothing. Plus the leftovers of the bomb at the crime scene were untraceable, according to the police-"

"The Sunnydale P.D.?" Xander interrupted, a lifetime's worth of contempt and scorn clearly evident in his voice. "Buffy, are you telling me that you depended on THEM to catch Cordy's killer? Those guys couldn't catch a disease in a friggin' whorehouse! Damn it, what about Willow? Wasn't she able to find out anything?"

"Xander – Willow's dead," Buffy explained sadly, causing Harris to stare at her in shock. "She's been dead for thirty years. That botched ritual which Illyria did, it killed her instantly. That's another reason why you can't afford to fail in trying to fix this mess; I need you to save my best friend's life."

Xander shook his head as if trying to clear out something that was clogging his cognitive functions. "What happened to you?"

"What do you mean?"

"No offense, Buff, but this – well, this just isn't you," Xander tried to explain himself. "Not the Buffy Summers I know, anyway. Because even after being away for half a decade, the first thing you said after I showed up at your house was 'how could you be so stupid fighting against demons' or, y'know, words to that effect. And yet now, you're saying it's all up to me to save the day? Seriously, what happened to change your attitude so much?"

Buffy looked away. "Santa Claus."

"What?"

"It was Christmas Eve, back when Joy was – what? Seven years old, maybe eight," Buffy tried but failed to recall the precise year. "Angel and I had gotten into an argument about how he'd almost been killed – again. We were just about ready to punch each other's lights out, when Joy appeared at the top of the stairs calling our names. Her pyjamas were all splattered with blood.

"Angel and I freaked as soon as we saw her, and we both ran upstairs so fast, I swear we practically flew up there," Buffy said tightly. "Once we arrived in Joy's bedroom, we saw the corpse wearing the Santa suit. Giles explained later that the myth of Santa Claus wasn't entirely false; the flying reindeer and the climbing down chimneys thing, that really was part of his M.O. since the late fifteen hundreds. It's just that instead of bringing kids presents on Christmas, that guy showed up to disembowel them, instead."

"So..." Xander prompted the middle-aged woman, astonished and somewhat sickened by the story so far.

"So, it was just incredibly lucky that Angel had insisted on Joy being taught the basics of self-defence, and she was somehow able to deflect the knife so that the bad guy killed himself instead of her," Buffy said, her eyes still having a haunted look despite all the years that had passed. "After my semi-nervous breakdown, that was when I realized that I simply couldn't do it all myself. Because I couldn't even protect my own daughter in my own home! I needed my husband, my Watcher, my sister and all my friends to help, however they could. I'm telling you, Xander, it was a good thing Faith was back in Sunnydale by then and could take over the Slayage – because in that state, I was completely useless to everyone."

"Faith?" Xander said in disbelief.

"She spent over a decade in prison for the two men she killed, so in my book, she paid for her crimes before getting released early for good behavior," Buffy told him frankly. "But eventually Faith died, and a new Slayer was Called and took over here for her."

"I'm back," Angel said, bringing with him a bandolier loaded with grey cartridges of some sort.

"'Bout time," Giles said, ceasing to mutter to himself as the grumpy old man looked up and saw the former vampire approach. Tugging down the blanket used to cover his aged frame, the Watcher-slash-mage gestured at the cartridges and intoned, "Schempamporasch!"

The ammunition glowed briefly with a green light, before the light died away. "Right, that should do it," Rupert said before turning towards Xander. "Now listen up, boy. Each of these devices contains a bit of activated Key energy-"

"Activated what energy?" Xander interrupted, having no idea what Giles was talking about.

"Oh, good Lord! This is like trying to teach sign language to Koko the Gorilla!" Giles shouted testily.

"Giles, calm down," Buffy said soothingly, before meeting Xander's cold and angry eyes. "Please, try to be patient with him. Ever since Tara was killed in that magical duel with this guy named Rack, Giles has been a little-"

"I don't give a flying fuck why he's acting like this, even though I figure it's on account of Giles never once respected me in his entire life – and this is just him not bothering to hide it anymore," Harris cut her off, recalling that thing about 'manners' yet again. "Just explain this whole Key thing, in words of three syllables or less."

"The Key is Dawn, or at least, it was," Angel explained, handing over the bandolier to Xander. "She was originally created by magic, in case you didn't know; at one time, Dawn was the living mystical energy known as the Key, before these monks in Europe made her human and inserted her into Buffy's family with a reality-alteration spell. It adjusted all our memories to make everyone think she'd always been Buffy's little sister."

"What?" Xander looked like he couldn't believe it.

"It's true. Anyway, we finally managed to get the Key energy out of her, and stored it in these thirty-seven canisters. One for every fractured time zone in Sunnydale," Buffy continued the briefing. "You need to plant them in the ground and activate them with your blood, but make sure you leave the epicentre time period containing Illyria for last. That's when the Key energy will do its cosmic reset thing. But the thing is..."

"What?" Xander asked suspiciously.

"You'll only have about ten seconds before Illyria kills Willow," Angel said regretfully. "So make sure you plant the last cartridge within the school itself, as close as possible to the principal's office, in order to save her."

"Question," Xander said as he put on the bandolier. "How exactly do I kill that damn demon already? On account of we still didn't know how to do that, back in my time."

"Find Wesley, you daft git," Giles said gruffly. "He's at his motel, whatever time period that may be in, and he'll have that Mutari generator with him. It'll drain Illyria's demon powers enough so that her human shell can be physically killed. Just make sure you have another weapon with you at that point, in order to finish the job!"

Xander paused, staring at his right palm. He wasn't certain whether this would work, but he nonetheless raised his hand and concentrated on what he wanted to happen.

Immediately, the splinter morphed into a wooden staff that rushed out of the young man's hand and smashed into Giles' rocking chair, wrecking the underside and causing the old man to fall to the floor in an unceremonious heap.

"Will something like that do?" Xander asked, just barely managing to restrain a smile over how this twisted, aged version of the man he'd once looked up to was screeching with fury.

* * *

><p><strong>Outside 4 Parkview Crescent, Sunnydale<strong>

**A while later**

Xander had been very busy ever since leaving Angel, Buffy and Giles behind.

Opting to bury the first cartridge in the courtyard of 523 Oak Park Street, Harris had subsequently retraced his steps back to the Magic Box, plunging a cartridge of Key energy into the earth every time, after finding a suitable empty place that was unlikely to be disturbed. The one exception had been the Magic Box itself, where, after Tara had been informed of the situation, the witch had personally excavated part of the basement floor in order to play her part in what had to be done.

Ever since then, Harris had been moving through the various time zones as fast as he could, burying his cargo as securely as possible. But after arriving in Cordelia's neighborhood, the situation had changed for him. Xander couldn't just bury his cartridge for this time period and leave – not after learning what he now knew.

The only problem was, just like at the Summers house a few hours ago, Xander had no idea when he was – and whether or not Cordelia lived here, at this point in time. But nothing ventured, nothing gained; so Harris made his way onto the estate, and rang the front doorbell.

"What the HELL are you doing back here?" Timothy Chase roared angrily upon seeing Xander's face. "And how did you get past the main gate? Damn it, the security system in this place SUCKS!"

"I need to talk to Cordelia. Is she here?" Xander asked matter-of-factly. It may have been pointless to try to warn her what was coming, here and now, but it still felt like something he had to do.

"No. Now get lost!" Tim went to slam the door in the unwelcome intruder's face, but then he went reeling backwards when Xander barged in without an invitation, the door catching the owner of the house flush on the jaw.

"Yeah, no offense, but I get the feeling you're lying to me," Xander said pleasantly. At least, now he knew he was at some point in the not-too-distant future. "Cordelia?"

"Be quiet!" the brunette hissed at him, as she came into the front lobby of the mansion carrying something carefully in her arms. "Damn it, Xander, I just got her to sleep – you wanna wake her up?"

Xander dodged a rather awkward punch from Tim, who had gotten up off the floor by now. He then body-slammed Cordelia's cousin against the wall and told him roughly, "Listen up; I've cut you about as much slack as I'm going to, pal. Now behave, or I'll show you just what real pain is! I came here to warn Cordelia that someone's gonna kill her, understand? So back off, let me say my piece, and then I'll leave! Understood?"

"Fine, just hurry up and get out," Tim muttered, looking unaccountably anxious.

"So, you didn't come back because you heard about Erica?" Cordelia asked Xander, looking disappointed.

"Who's-?" Xander started to say, before he looked down at the baby girl in Cordelia's arms. "Is this Erica? Uh, Cordy – what, what year is this?"

"What?"

"Just humor me," Xander said, starting to connect the dots in his mind. "How long has it been since you last saw me?"

"It's been almost exactly a year..." Cordelia trailed off, before the brunette figured out that Harris honestly didn't know. "Erica's three months old, dumbass. So, yeah, this is OUR daughter! I'm sure even you can do that math, already!"

( _Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy..._ ) Xander started chanting the frantic litany in his head. "You – and me – and – it was after we slept together last night?"

"Last night? Nowadays it's 2005, you moron! What kind of drugs are you on? All right, that's it – get out!" Tim shouted, unable to contain himself anymore.

"Timmy, will you take a chill pill or something?" Cordelia said in annoyance, cuddling her infant daughter for a moment. She said to Xander, "So what were you saying about someone wanting to kill me?"

"Yeah, uh, it's just I never knew about – this," Xander said dazedly, as Cordy gave Erica to Tim and sent him a stern look. "Cordy-"

PHUT! A big red blotch appeared on Cordelia's forehead, very reminiscent of a certain deceased Swedish politician, and just like that – the corpse collapsed to the floor of the mansion. All of Ms. Chase's potential and youthful vitality snuffed out in an instant, with only a dead body remaining.

"NOOOOO!" Tim screamed, clutching Erica in fearful horror even as he stared at his lifeless cousin. Both he and Harris turned to see Warren approaching calmly, the footsteps echoing in the hall and the assassin's Glock aimed directly at Xander's heart.

"WHY'D YOU KILL HER?" Tim screamed at Mears, causing Erica to start crying.

"Because it would cause Mr. Harris here pain, and that stuck-up bitchy cousin of yours deserved it," Warren answered calmly. "Get over here beside me, Mr. Jellyfish. And don't try anything stupid; your niece's life quite literally depends on it."

"Who the hell are you?" Xander asked Warren, eyeing him carefully as Tim obeyed the assassin's orders while trying to calm Erica down.

"I'm insulted," the evil killer said to Harris, looking anything but. "No one ever mentioned me? The name's Warren Mears."

"Never heard of you," Xander said truthfully, shaking his head. He was battling to keep his turbulent emotions under control after witnessing Cordelia's shocking murder just now; but given the sort of life he'd led over the past five years, such a thing wasn't all that difficult.

"Really? Then maybe you've heard of the organization I work for. It's called the Order of Taraka," Warren said with a hint of a smile. "I'm sure you've heard of my recently departed mentor as well, dear Patrice?"

"You mean the bogus cop who tried to kill me, way back when? Yeah..." Xander nodded once. ( _This is definitely about what happened that night with Detective Stein, payback from like beyond the grave. _) He then shifted his gaze to Tim, "You were the one who sold me out to them, right?"

"YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE EVER COME BACK, DAMN YOU!" Tim screamed at Xander hatefully, as Erica started crying again. "Those people blackmailed me into becoming part of Cordelia's life, just in case you ever showed up again! Five years you stayed away, five years! But then you came back last year, and I had to call them or risk getting killed myself. Then you left again. Why couldn't you have just stayed GONE?"

"Be quiet. And get that baby to shut up, Mr. Jellyfish," Warren commanded. "Now as I was saying, Mr. Harris, it wasn't enough just to kill you after following you here, otherwise I would have simply detonated that bomb I planted as a backup measure-"

"WHAT?" Tim screamed.

"I told you to be silent," Warren suddenly hissed, before he focused back on Xander. "Patrice wanted you defeated as well as dead; to know that you'd lost going up against the Order. Which you now understand. So goodbye, Mr. Harris-"

"Wait, can I just say one thing – as a last request?" Xander interrupted, holding up both hands as if in surrender.

"What is it?" Warren asked impatiently

"You aren't the first assassin from the Orders of Taraka I've killed, asshole, and I'm pretty sure you won't be the last either."

WHAM! The two-pronged wooden spear erupting from Xander's right hand slammed through Warren's eyes, burying itself deep into his brain and causing the bullet from the Glock to impact harmlessly into the nearby wall. The spear then retracted into Xander's hand, as the young man stared emotionlessly at his first human kill.

( _What was it they used to say in Stateville? Oh yeah, that it's a lot easier the next time you do it,_ ) Harris cogitated blankly, before reminding himself that he still had a job to do; and that his allotted time to get it done wasn't unlimited, either.

( _I'm sorry, Cordy,_ ) Xander thought to himself, staring down at the young woman's corpse. ( _I promise you, I'll fix this – somehow. Because you're NOT going to die this way. I WON'T let that happen!_ )

Harris then took his infant daughter in his arms, kissed Erica gently on the head before giving her back to the shell-shocked Tim. And before he left the Chase mansion, Harris silently promised his baby girl that THIS possible future was never going to come to pass – not while one breath still remained in his body.

* * *

><p><strong>Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale<strong>

**Approximately an hour later**

Tired from his fantastic journey, Xander clutched the last cartridge of Key energy as well as the Mutari generator in his hands as he headed for the physical site of the Hellmouth.

The young man had gone through roughly half a dozen time zones before he made it to the Downtowner Apartments motel, where he'd found Oz and Wesley waiting for him. They'd been in a time period corresponding to early 2012, so from their point of view – it had been nearly eight years' worth of waiting for him to show up. Thus, not even Oz had been able to avoid having a look of relief on his face, when Harris had finally done so.

Xander had spent barely five minutes with that pair, though; there was nothing they could tell him which he hadn't already learned from Buffy, Angel and Giles. Well, professionally speaking, anyway; Wes and Oz did have some personal news for him, such as Fred and Groo showing up in Los Angeles after the Covenant of Trombli had finally been overthrown in Pylea, and those two pursuing their own paths in the City of Angels.

Apart from that, though, it had just been one temporal translocation at a time in order for Xander to do the job that he, alone, could do. In a way, it was just as Drusilla had said; Harris saw both things and people either long dead or yet to come, as he trudged his way through the shattered areas of Sunnydale.

Kingman's Bluff – Xander saw the temple of Proserpexa and her followers vanish into the ground, during the great earthquake of 1932.

The Sunnydale mall – he witnessed the singing and dancing of the townspeople with an invisible backing orchestra, after the demon 'lord of the dance' named Sweet was summoned by some idiot during 2014.

A neighborhood near the town's industrial district – Harris observed the high school student named Jim Stanley and his teacher Grace Newman making out, not long before the Sadie Hawkins dance of 1955.

There were other times and other scenes Xander had witnessed as well, such as the era when the Spanish had been in control of the region, plus a time obviously far into the future; an age where Sunnydale was a thick forest with a huge, floating city in the sky. But certainly the most traumatic time period he'd encountered was the Primordial Age, when the Old Ones had been in control of the Earth and endlessly warring against one another.

No doubt about it; Xander knew that the sight of the giant monster named Arsgomor, and the four-winged soul killer named Lo-Hash, battling together would give him nightmares for a long time.

But now, the quest was almost complete and Xander knew that he had to hurry and activate the Key energy before it was too late. He didn't know how much more time he had before the Hellmouth barriers failed and the entire world succumbed to Illyria's handiwork, but Harris doubted it was a lot.

( _Man, I still can't believe they rebuilt this place on top of the damn Hellmouth. Were those people at City Hall completely retarded or what? _) Xander asked himself as he made his way into the deserted high school, seeing the various signs indicating where the Sunnydale High alumni were supposed to go for the five-year reunion scheduled for later tonight. He even saw the woman named Nancy Doyle arrive to sit at the main table, which contained everyone's name badges.

But he had no time to think about such things; Harris made his way to the principal's office, where he found Illyria cursing nonstop.

"Ridiculous ape. Your actions have torn the space-time continuum apart. Your subsequent death was far too quick and merciful!" the Old One yelled, before she kicked Willow's corpse angrily.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you to show some respect for the dead? Oh, yeah, I forgot; you never had a mother, did you?" Xander said, carefully approaching the ancient demon.

"You. The shell, Lilah Morgan, she had memories of you," Illyria narrowed her eyes. She held up her fingers, making a gap between her thumb and index finger where an electrical spark formed. Lilah's voice said, "Either that undead bitch took the stupid bastard with her when she was dusted, or else he lost the ring – and now, Harris is stuck in Pylea. He's either dead, or a slave, or maybe even both."

"Nice to be remembered," Xander said sarcastically, briefly cursing Lilah's memory.

"Ignorant worm. What do you want here?" Illyria demanded.

"To fix the mistake you made," Xander replied truthfully, inching closer.

"You? You are nothing, like the rest of your miserable species," Illyria sneered. "Descendant of the muck I used to trample beneath my feet. How dare you imply that _I_ have made a mistake?"

"And yet, I'm the one who has the answers on how to correct the problem," Xander responded. "Can you say the same? Look, all you have to do is punch a hole in the floor; I'll do the rest."

"Your kind are deceivers. This much I learned from the Qwa'ha Xahn, before he was slain," Illyria said distrustfully, referring to Knox.

"But if you're this god-king of the universe I've been hearing about so much, well, what could you possibly have to fear from a guy like me? Besides – this is my world too, you know," Xander said reasonably, playing on the Old One's arrogance. "I may live in Pylea nowadays, but you know what they say; there's no place like home sweet hell."

"Your words are vague, and are intended to confuse me," Illyria replied, looking annoyed. "Still, one thing you spoke truly; I have nothing to fear from the likes of you."

Without another word, the Old One buried her arm into the floor of the corridor. Stepping back, Illyria saw Xander place the last cartridge into the ground. She then barked out, "What manner of trickery is this? You have placed an aspect of the Key into the earth! WHY?"

Xander simply smiled as he let blood from his wood-slashed left palm drop down onto the cartridge, simultaneously activating both that one and all the others scattered around Sunnydale. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Without warning, reality shattered all over again, as the Key energy briefly dissolved the barriers separating the thirty-seven different time zones; and then the cosmos reset itself throughout Sunnydale, once the green energy was exhausted and vanished into the void.

* * *

><p><strong>Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale<strong>

**March 13th, 2004**

Just for an instant – Xander could perceive the quantum wave functions comprising the universe wash over him like a sea spray, as the shattered space-time continuum within the town limits was repaired. And just as he'd hoped, Harris was still here at the high school – instead of being transported back to the Magic Box, talking to Tara.

( _Damn it, Angel sure wasn't kidding about how little time I'd have to stop this!_ ) Xander thought to himself, as he saw the broken door of the principal's office and his childhood friend approaching down the corridor. "Willow!"

"Xander? What are you doing here? And what's that thing you're holding?" Willow looked confused.

"A Mutari generator..." Xander desperately thought of how to get rid of his one-time best friend without a lengthy debate, and quickly came up with the answer. "Illyria's here! In that office! You gotta go get Buffy to stop her!"

"Uh, I don't know where-"

"Fine, then get Giles, get SOMEONE! I'm gonna try to delay the Big Bad while you go fetch the cavalry, now HURRY!" Xander let the true urgency of the situation appear in his voice in order to convince the redhead to get moving.

Once the Rosenberg woman had turned around and starting running to get help, Harris raised his weapon and went into the office. Illyria was there, arms outstretched, eyes closed, about to open a portal to the unthinkably ancient past – a terrifying nightmare that only he and the Old One had ever seen – as the unholy ritual drew to a close...

Xander aimed the generator at the enemy, pulling the trigger. The weapon shot out a beam of light, hitting Illyria in her stomach. It drew the demon's blue light energy into itself before transferring it into a negatively charged pocket universe, stripping the Old One of the majority of her powers.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?" Illyria screamed in fury, as she suddenly found herself unable to alter time or open portals any longer. "You! The shell, Lilah Morgan, she had memories of you-"

"Yeah, you know what? We've already had this conversation," Xander interrupted her. "Find a new theme."

"You will die for this outrage, vermin!" Illyria screamed, feeling weak and confused without her missing powers.

"You mean, the way you killed Harry Doyle a couple of days ago?" Xander asked as he dropped the Mutari generator onto the floor.

"Was that what the servant of the Powers was called? No matter; human names mean nothing. Whereas my name means everything! It has lasted longer than your species has been alive! I possessed more grace than this cursed human flesh could ever express. I was the immaculate embodiment of rule, divine lord of the Cosmic All! You and yours are as plankton, envying the vast ocean which is I!" Illyria ranted.

"And just for the record, your speechifying gets real old, real fast," Xander quipped before the battle got started.

Illyria charged forward and hit Xander in the face, but her physical strength had decreased so much that what should have been a lethal blow, merely sent the young man flying into the closest wall. Feeling somewhat dazed by the pain, Xander didn't struggle as the weakened Old One picked him up off the floor.

"I offer you one magnanimous opportunity for a quick and merciful death; undo what you did to me, pathetic maggot," Illyria royally commanded.

"Eat shit and die, DEMON!" Xander suddenly roared, slamming his right palm under Illyria's chin...

...before the multi-pronged wooden pole tore its way through the top of what had been Lilah's head, Illyria's invulnerability having vanished along with her other powers.

The Old One's death scream was somehow muted by the white light erupting out of Xander's right hand, as the pole morphed back into a wooden splinter and the displaced fragment of the Oracle vanished – disappearing through a micro-wormhole into the past, and clattering to the floor of the high school gymnasium.

While the gym was being used as the site of the senior Prom, for the Sunnydale High class of 1999.

Subconsciously attracting the attention of the eighteen-year-old Xander Harris, who then gazed at Angel and Buffy as they started dancing, before his date Anya Jenkins started criticising him for not paying any attention to her.

The work was a circle, and it had been completed. Opus est circulus, et peracta fuisset.

TBC...


	13. Aftermath

See Chapter One for disclaimer and details. Greetings and salutations, everybody; and my Lord, but it's been a long day. A VERY long day. So long that I'm half-asleep even as I type this! So I'll just quickly thank everyone once again who's been reading and reviewing the story, hope and pray that you, my faithful audience out there, will continue to give me feedback of whatever sort (positive or negative, I'm not fussy), and last but not least give you...

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Thirteen: Aftermath<strong>

**Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale**

**March 13th, 2004**

Willow ran for approximately ten seconds, before she remembered that this wasn't the 1990's any longer; and she finally pulled out her cell phone to ring her best friend.

"Come on, come on! Answer!" Willow muttered to herself, hearing the phone's ringing.

#Hello?# Buffy's voice eventually said through the speaker device.

"Buffy – it's me, Willow! Where are you?" the computer expert said desperately.

#At Giles' place, Angel and I were just leaving for the high school-# Buffy started to say.

"Oh, Goddess! It'll be too late by the time you – Buffy, Illyria's here!" Willow screamed, cutting off the Slayer. "So's Xander, he's trying to delay her in the principal's office but I don't know if he-"

#What?# Buffy interrupted, sounding majorly concerned. #Damn it, Xander's gonna get himself killed – Willow, get him out of there!#

"And then what?" Willow demanded. "Buffy, lemme talk to Giles!"

#Never mind Giles, you have to-# Buffy started to say.

#Willow, it's me,# Giles's voice said after a moment's pause, presumably after he'd grabbed the cell phone from Buffy. #What's going on, precisely?#

"I was near the principal's office, when I, I ran into Xander," Willow said hurriedly. "He told me to get help, that that Illyria thing was in there and he was going to try to delay her, but you aren't here, a-a-and neither is Buffy, and I, I , I think the end of the world is very seriously nigh, right now!"

#Willow, calm down,# Giles ordered her. #Has Illyria initiated some sort of, um, apocalyptic ritual yet?#

"I don't know!" Willow said desperately. "Oh, this is hopeless – look, Giles, just get everyone over here; I know it'll probably be all over by then, one way or the other, but if the world's still here by the time you arrive, I'll meet you in the library!"

Willow disconnected, and then ran back to the principal's office. It was too late for her to intervene by the time she got there, though; the redhead had already guessed as much, given the strong, coppery smell of blood present in the air.

( _Oh, no, Goddess, please don't let Xander be dead..._ ) the former witch silently prayed as she approached the office.

Willow bravely fought the desire to vomit as she stepped over the broken door. She saw how the top of Illyria's head was a broken, bloody mess; although, oddly, there was no sign of brain matter visible through the big hole in her cranium. The Old One's leather-clad body had collapsed on top of Xander's, who was bruised and laying still with his eyes closed.

"Xander? XANDER!" Willow screamed in horror. She quickly ascertained that the man was still breathing; and with some sense of relief, she dragged Illyria's body off of him and then the redhead tried to wake Harris up – albeit with no success.

"Oh my God, what happened here?"

Willow looked up to see a twenty-something blonde woman she didn't know standing at the doorway. Panicking, she realized that the current situation could be totally misconstrued by the stranger; and if this person ran away and called the police, then she could end up in big trouble. "Uh, it's not what you think! Um, I mean..."

"Are you Willow Rosenberg? My name's Nina Ash," the new arrival said, as Willow stood up. "I'm not sure if Oz has mentioned me to you, but he described you pretty well to me; and, uh, he said he'd be here for the reunion tonight?"

"OH! Yes, I know who you are," Willow exhaled with relief. "Um, Oz mentioned your name yesterday. You're that female werewolf who got bitten six months ago, right? The one that's part of his self-help group in LA?"

"Right. So what happened here? I mean, you don't have to be a werewolf to be able to smell all the blood in this place." Nina grimaced; the stench was almost overwhelming to her sensitive lycanthropic nose.

"I'm not sure, but I – I think Xander just killed her," Willow semi-stammered, pointing at Illyria.

"Good!" was Nina's response, much to Willow's surprise. Upon seeing her companion's expression, the wolfish blonde quickly elaborated, "Because I saw that woman murder one of Oz's friends recently, and put at least one other person in the hospital. Trust me; if this Xander guy killed her, she sure as hell deserved it!"

"Right," Willow said slowly, before Nina explained that she had decided to come to Sunnydale after a phone conversation with her mentor; one where Oz had explained that they might be facing an apocalypse here in Sunnydale. So instead of hiding under the bed, Nina had decided to face her fears and had driven to the Hellmouth to assist Oz if she could.

"Please, help me carry Xander to the library," Willow asked her new acquaintance, before Nina grabbed the man's legs and the redhead grabbed his arms. "And I'm sorry, but I'm also gonna need you to help me clean up the mess in here. We gotta dump Illyria's body in the furnace down in the boiler room, mop up all the blood on the floor, maybe try to fix the door as well..."

"Oh, joy," Nina groaned, as the two women carried Xander out of there.

* * *

><p><strong>Downtowner Apartments, Sunnydale<strong>

**A while later**

Oz hit the End Call button on his cell phone, after listening to a rushed message from Willow and Nina. Namely, that Xander was unconscious; that he had somehow killed Illyria; that the two women had gotten rid of the Old One's corpse; and that the blonde and the redhead had found some sort of strange device in the high school principal's office, when they'd gone back to clean up the battleground.

After hearing his request to describe the gadget in question, Willow had handed the phone over to Nina; who had provided an excellent description of said gadget while Ms. Rosenberg had busied herself with other matters.

The similarity of the contraption to the schematics for the half-built Mutari generator Wesley was working on had not been lost upon the male werewolf.

"Hey, Wes? I think we need to get over to the school. Now that Illyria's dead and all," Oz said succinctly to the startled ex-Watcher.

* * *

><p><strong>A Place Where Nothing Need Be What It Seems<strong>

**A Time Meaningless To Mortal Minds**

Xander sat on his old Sunnydale beach chair, looking out at the Pacific Ocean through a pair of sunglasses and peacefully sipping a piña colada.

To his right, Xander noticed his friends Jesse and Kendra laying on a couple of beach towels, soaking up the rays; one was wearing nothing but a revealing bikini, and the other wore a set of crimson Speedos. Just like those Harris himself had once worn, when he'd been a member of the junior year Sunnydale High swim team.

The fact that both of Xander's companions had been dead for years seemed utterly irrelevant, at least here and now.

"Nice weather we're having, isn't it?" the former prison convict asked, before enjoying another sip of his drink.

"Dat it is," Kendra said her distinctive Jamaican accent. "Jesse, could ya rub some more sunscreen onto me back? I tink I'm startin' to burn dere, a little."

"Anything milady asks," McNally said valiantly, getting up and grabbing the sunscreen lotion. "And if she would care to undo the top half of her bikini, I'll make sure that there are no ugly tan lines?"

"Do ya tink I'm dat stoopid, ya testosterone-filled idiot?" Kendra instantly seemed annoyed with the young man and his offer. "I told ya before, Jesse; I'm not gettin' nekkid fer you! Not now, and not ever!"

"Well, Kendra, forever is a long time..." McNally drawled, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Especially if I'm constantly kicking yer skinny white ass!" Kendra told him roughly. No doubt about it; the Chosen One definitely seemed to have kicked that 'being subservient to boys' thing she'd had when she was alive.

"Guys, guys!" Xander tried not to laugh out loud. "Time out, okay?"

"Whatever you say, bud. By the way, just wanted to say congrats and all that," Jesse smiled at him.

"Congratulations for what?" Xander asked quizzically.

"Fer what, he says?" Kendra rolled her eyes as she sat up. "Xander, ya saved de world just now, remember? Not to mention, ya got rid of da two vampires dat killed me and Jesse! Alright, ya didn't kill Droosilla yerself, but it was close enough..."

"You're welcome," Xander smiled as he got up, put the piña colada down and stretched a little. "Listen, guys, I feel like taking a walk. You wanna come with?"

But when Xander turned around to where Jesse and Kendra had been just a moment before, there was only empty, undisturbed sand. Like neither of them had ever been there. "Huh. Well, that's odd..."

Taking off his hat and sunglasses, Xander frowned as the Sunnydale beach vanished – and a desert with some bushes and a few rocks appeared all around him, the place where the First Slayer used to live.

"What the hell is goin' on here, Boy Toy? And Jesus, but you look as thin as a fuckin' rake!"

Xander whirled around, to see the latest incarnation of the Vampire Slayer standing behind him. She was wearing a prison uniform, with the number 430019 visible close by her left breast. "Faith. Well, fancy meeting you here."

"Asked you a question, Harris," the young woman scowled at him. "Now where are we, and why the hell did you bring me here?"

"What makes ya think I had anything to do with this? Or that I ever wanted to see you again? Heck, the last time we talked, you threatened to kill me," Xander replied with a shrug. "Cut out my heart or something, wasn't it? Five years, it gets kinda hard to remember details."

Faith stiffened, recalling that night very clearly. She knew that the road to redemption was long and hard, an uphill battle all the way. It was unforgiving, too, and quite taxing at times. Something that burdened you with the weight of guilt and horror over past sins. Angel had told her during one of his many prison visits that the urge to give up was often almost overwhelming...

But if life's a journey, then it's the path you take which makes the journey worthwhile. So Faith looked Xander in the eye and said, "I'm sorry for threatening to kill both you AND Cordelia that night."

Xander lifted an eyebrow, not really having expected to hear that. "Seriously?"

"Yeah."

"Right. Well, I spoke with Angel about you recently," Xander said reflectively, wondering whether he could truly believe what his one-time lover had just said. Giving her the benefit of the doubt he added, "Thing is Captain Forehead told me how you turned yourself in to the cops, confessed to everything you'd done. And how Wolfram & Hart arranged to have you put away for life for betraying them."

"Twenty-five years to life, technically. And it was all thanks to that bitch, Lilah Morgan," Faith snorted in contempt, leaving out Lindsey and Lee's involvement.

"Did you know that she's dead now?" Xander inquired, as Faith's eyes went wide. "Seriously, she died just a few days ago. According to what Wes told everyone after he heard it from Lilah's ex-flunky, her soul got all burned up by the Big Bad who took over her body. Not sure if I believe that myself, but either way, Lilah's gone now; and it's not like I'm sorry. I never liked her, even if that woman did help me get outta jail."

"Say what? Hey, am I dreaming here? Seriously, stud, is this shit all some kinda weird Slayer dream or something?" Faith demanded, looking around at the barren, sandy desert – which abruptly morphed into a Sunnydale cemetery at night. "WHOA! What the...?"

"I dunno for sure, but I think this is a dream," Xander said to the dark-haired Slayer, ignoring the graveyard environment as he stared at her intently. "Feels like the one I had a couple days back, anyway. Look, Faith, we aren't friends anymore; pretty much goes without saying. But since He-Who-Uses-Too-Much-Hair-Gel vouches for ya, I figure I should tell you there's a chance you'll get released from jail in a few years' time; they'll let you out early for good behavior-"

"WHAT?" Faith demanded, cutting him off in sheer astonishment.

"Yeah. And something else; apparently, you told Angel how the Order of Taraka would have called off their hit on me, five years ago. Is that true?"

"Uh, yeah," Faith nodded in confusion. "Far as I knew, anyway, after the boss was killed. Why do you ask?"

"Because I need to be one hundred percent sure that this isn't official business with those guys. And once I take out Warren and Patti, that should be it..." Xander mused to himself.

An owl hooting overhead distracted him; Harris was simply unable to resist looking up in the direction of the noise, just in case it was a threat. And when he turned back to look at Faith, she wasn't there anymore; exactly like what had happened with Jesse and Kendra.

"Great," Xander said sarcastically, half-expecting someone else from his past to pop in at any moment. "Here we go again. What the hell is the point of all this, I ask you?"

"It could be all about you getting some closure regarding people from your past, but then I'm no psychologist," a familiar female voice said from behind him.

This time, because he recognized the voice, Xander turned around slowly. "And there's also the fact that you're dead – Harry," he said in a level tone.

"True enough – Xander," the blonde Vision Girl smiled. She looked around. "I have a question, actually. If all this is a gift from the Powers for you to move on from past emotional issues, then shouldn't your parents have shown up by now? Not to mention Buffy Summers, Willow Rosenberg and Rupert Giles?"

Xander took a moment to consider both his father and his mother, Tony and Jessica Harris. He had driven past his old home earlier today – or however long it had been, given all his trips through various time zones lately – and the place had looked like a mess from the outside. The front yard had contained empty beer bottles, used car parts and a pair of stained pants. The azalea patch, once the gardening pride of the residence, was now barren and lifeless.

All things considered, it was fairly obvious the past five years had not been good ones for his mom and dad – and that they had abandoned the appearances of normality completely after their son had vanished.

"My parents left me behind, in their own way, long before I ever left them behind," Xander shook his head in response to Harry's question. "There's nothing to be settled there."

"And your friends?"

"Is that what they are nowadays?" Xander asked himself that question as much as the messenger for the Powers. "Because those people haven't been part of my life for a long time, for reasons that I'm pretty sure you're familiar with. And sure, there's no animosity on my part nowadays, but friendship? Can't help thinking it's kinda hard to be friends with someone who can't understand you, like in the case of Willow; or someone who can't accept you for who and what you are, like in the case of Buffy; or someone who has no respect for you as a person, like in the case of Giles."

"Are you sure that you're not expecting too much of those people, too quickly? After all, friendship is – has to be – a two-way street," Harry replied. "And if you're going to be staying in Sunnydale instead of going back to Pylea, don't you think it'd be a good idea to establish some sort of détente with them?"

"I guess so," Xander nodded. "Well, unless I can convince Cordy to move back to LA. Because the Hellmouth's not the safest place in this world to raise a kid; and Los Angeles may have plenty of demons and vamps, but at least the job prospects for someone like me are a lot better than in Sunnyhell."

"So, in your mind, does that mean you two are an item again?" Harry asked with a smile. "Or perhaps the better question should be, how exactly do you feel about Cordelia Chase now?"

( _Good question,_ ) Xander admitted to himself. ( _How DO I really feel about her? I always had strong feelings for Cordy in the past, one way or the other. But now, after watching her die in that future time zone – and what with Erica's existence..._ )

"All I know for sure is that I don't want to lose her again," Xander told Harry. "I guess I need to sit down with Cor at some point for us to talk. And I mean REALLY talk, especially about the consequences of using that lousy protection."

Harry shrugged, as if to acknowledge the point. "You seem to be taking this whole 'impending fatherhood' thing amazingly well."

"Am I? I guess I haven't really thought about it; it hasn't really sunk in yet," Harris confessed, looking around at the deserted Sunnydale cemetery. "But now that you mention it, the truth is I have no idea how to be a father, let alone a good one. Got any advice for me?"

"Not really," the blonde woman shrugged again. "But if it helps, Francis and I talked about having kids at one point, and I told him in advance not to try to smother me if I ever ended up in the family way. And that it's okay to ask other people for help, if you can't do it all yourself. Of course, since in your case Ms. Chase doesn't even know she's pregnant yet..."

"Yeah. Not to mention I've been kinda busy worrying about other things lately – like saving the world from Illyria," Xander said, scratching the back of his neck.

"Of course. And like your friends Jesse and Kendra said just now – congratulations on a job well done."

"Thanks." Xander subsequently held up his empty right palm.

Harry saw the questioning look and said, "You don't need that, not anymore. Truth is, that part of the Oracle is now dead and gone."

"Yeah? Well, I can't say I'm unhappy to hear it, 'cause that Pylean tree was majorly annoying. So what now, where I'm concerned?" Xander asked.

"Well, that's the thing," Harry said, suddenly looking troubled. "You've learned things – seen glimpses of the future – gained knowledge which, by rights, you shouldn't possess. I could erase those memories-"

"No!" Xander forcefully cut her off at once. "You don't mess around with my mind. At least I'm not giving you permission to do that, anyway. I have to remember everything, good and bad..."

"Because of the baby. Your daughter, Erica," Harry nodded. "I know. In fact, the Powers told me as much. And you're right; I can't do something like that unless you allow it."

"So, then, why bother mentioning the whole memory loss deal?" Xander wanted to know.

"Free will; you had to at least know that the option was available to you, in order to cope with the upcoming nightmares," Harry told him. "And just before I go, don't forget – you may have repaired the shattered mess that was Sunnydale, with literally less than a minute to spare...but there's still those two assassins from the Order of Taraka on the loose. And their informant."

"Cordy's cousin," Xander grimaced. "Not to mention he's also her landlord. Which means that whatever I do or say – that part's gonna end up messy, isn't it?"

Harry did not answer the question. All she said was, "Please tell my family at the Hyperion goodbye for me; and that I love them all very much."

The messenger for the Powers started to glow with that heavenly white light, until Xander closed his eyes and ducked his head to avoid being blinded by the seer's overwhelming visual display.

* * *

><p><strong>Somewhere on Deveraux Avenue, Sunnydale<strong>

**A while earlier**

Cordelia was driving to the high school in her BMW. Part of her was looking forward to the reunion tonight, but another part of her was secretly dreading it.

Dreading what her so-called 'friends' from five years ago would say to her, if she happened to run into them tonight. Oh, sure, some of them were dead (like Aphrodesia), some of them had been vamped (like Harmony), and some of them Cordy was pretty sure weren't coming (like Aura).

But there would be others there, no doubt, people apart from Willow and Buffy; people she had looked down upon and/or ridiculed during high school, just because they hadn't been rich enough or cool enough or whatever. There would also doubtless be ex-boyfriends who had gotten married, and who'd had kids, and who had settled for the whole white-picket fence deal; and who would show her not the slightest bit of interest tonight.

( _Okay, where the hell is all this coming from?_ ) Cordelia asked herself, as she continued to drive the mean streets of Sunnydale. ( _God, get a grip! So what if my ex-boyfriends are gonna be there? I can always say that I've got a man in my life! Sure, it's hard to say where exactly Xander and I stand after that so-called 'conversation' this morning – but then again, I can always..._ )

The sound of her cell phone ringing distracted Ms. Chase from her thoughts, as she pulled over and answered the incoming call. "Hello?"

#Cordelia, darling!# the voice of a man named Oliver came clearly over the air waves. #Have I got good news for you! You will bless the day you took me on as your agent, I'm certain!#

"Okay, Ollie, I'm listening; what's your good news?" Cordelia asked with a smile.

#It's two pieces of news, actually. Firstly, Random House called; they've decided to give you the advance money for your new novel!#

Cordelia squealed in delight. "Really? I thought they weren't going to do that yet!"

#Gorgeous, have you been living under a rock since yesterday? Sales have been going through the roof, practically from the moment the _New York Times_ printed such a positive review of your _Cassandra_ book!# Oliver informed his client. #I'll be faxing you the documents for your signature, as soon as I hang up. Just make sure you send them back to me on Monday, understand?#

"Sure thing, Ollie," Cordelia smiled. "So, what was your second piece of good news?"

#Are you sitting down?#

"Yeah, why?"

#Because believe it or not, Twentieth Century Fox and Walden Media have also been in touch. It's possible – just barely possible, mind you – that they'll want to buy the rights to make a movie out of your first novel!#

Cordelia's mind almost went blank. "What?"

#It's true! I started putting some feelers out yesterday,# Oliver told her. #If they give the project the green light, the odds are Jessica Alba will be offered the superheroine role. Some other names that I've heard mentioned are Ben Affleck to play the good guy vampire, Lindsay Lohan as the red-haired hacker, Melissa Joan Hart as the blonde airhead, Miley Cyrus as the pre-teen brat, Freddie Prinze jr. as the geeky sidekick, and Martin Sheen as the middle-aged mentor!#

"Oh. My. God," Cordelia said thickly, not sure if she could believe that all this was really happening. ( _All those big-name Hollywood actors, in a movie based on MY book?_ )

#It's all still up in the air at the moment, though,# Oliver warned Cordy not to get her hopes up too soon. #Beautiful, take my advice; concentrate on your writing! Get that second book perfect and then publish it as soon as possible – it can only help, if you establish a franchise of some sort. And if anything definite happens on the movie deal, I promise you'll be the first to know.#

"Okay, Ollie. And – thanks for telling me about this, I really appreciate it," Cordelia said shakily.

#It's what you pay me for, sweetness! Ciao!#

"Bye." Cordelia disconnected, and just sat there in the car for a while. She thought about what all this might mean for her, briefly speculating on whether she could wrangle herself a bit part in the movie given her prior acting career. She also contemplated how it could all be just a pipe dream, if the film studio executives suddenly got cold feet about the whole thing. She then wondered if all this would make any difference on whether Xander would decide to stay with her, or not.

The cell phone rang again, and Cordelia answered it. "Hello?"

#Cordelia! It's me, Dawn! Have you heard the news?# the female teen's voice sounded very worried over the phone.

"What news, Dawnie?" Cordy was already sure this had nothing to do with Oliver's good news just now.

#Oh, God, I KNEW that no one but me would think to call you! I heard it from Angel; Xander's unconscious or something, after taking on the Big Bad!#

"WHAT?" Cordelia screamed. "Is he okay?"

#I don't know! Angel just said "Xander's unconscious-" before Buffy grabbed the phone and told me to stay here at Kit's house. Otherwise, I'll be grounded until I'm like thirty!# Dawn complained.

"I'm on my way to the reunion right now, I'll find him. And I'll phone you as soon as I learn anything," Cordelia promised her younger friend.

#Good – thanks for doing that, Cordelia. And please, hurry!# Dawn pleaded before disconnecting.

Tossing the phone onto the passenger seat, Ms. Chase burned rubber as she tore off in the direction of Sunnydale High.

TBC...


	14. Revelations

See Chapter One for disclaimer and details. Welcome to the latest chapter of the story, and as always my deepest gratitude goes to everyone who's reading and reviewing this fic! There aren't all that many chapters left to go, so I hope you keep on doing so. Anyway, I just thought I should mention that I thought long and hard about what exactly to do with the five-year high school reunion scenario; many options were discussed with my beta readers, including a "Grosse Pointe Blank" style showdown with the bad guys. But eventually, I came up with this – and I hope you like it!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Fourteen: Revelations<strong>

**Sunnydale High Library, Sunnydale**

**March 13th, 2004**

The Scooby Gang and the Fang Gang had gathered here tonight, with almost everyone staring at the unconscious Xander. Buffy, Angel, Willow, Giles, Wesley and Oz were the old hands, so to speak; Tara and Nina did not have the same connection to the young man in question, but nonetheless, they knew who Harris was, and their concern was almost as great as that of the others.

"How did this happen?" Buffy demanded. "I mean seriously, Xander's out cold AGAIN? It's like he's turning into Giles or something!"

"Now see here!" Giles huffed in annoyance.

"Xander's gonna leave as soon as he wakes up, isn't he?" Willow asked forlornly, staring at him. "I mean, now that that Illyria thing is dead."

( _Not if I can help it, )_ Buffy thought to herself determinedly. ( _I just have to find some way to convince the guy that we need him here..._ )

"Yes, um, Willow, you weren't very clear on the telephone – how, how exactly did Xander accomplish that again?" Giles asked hesitantly.

"That's what I wanna know," Buffy said, distracted from her previous line of thought and looking around at Wesley; who was busy examining the Mutari generator Xander had brought with him from 2012. "Wes, didn't you say that this, uh, Old One was like a pure killing machine, or whatever?"

"Oh, yes, Miss Summers; most definitely," Wes looked up for a moment, pushing aside the pain from Harry's death as best he could. "But if I'm correct, Mr. Harris would have used this device to weaken Illyria enough to kill her. My only question is, where did he get a functioning Mutari generator from? Mine isn't fully built yet, and it's not as if you could buy one from the nearest Costco store."

"Does it, um, really matter where he got it from?" Tara asked hesitantly. "I mean, as long as everything turned out okay in the end. Xander probably got it after he disappeared from the Magic Box..."

"No, it can't be that simple. I mean, as best as we can figure it, Xander appeared in the school at practically the same instant he vanished out of your store," Angel shook his head. "We're definitely missing something here."

"So is Xander," Oz spoke up, grabbing the man's right hand and showing everyone how the splinter of wood that used to reside there was gone. "Thinkin' he'll have quite the story to tell us after he wakes up."

"Unless he leaves without even saying goodbye first," Willow repeated herself mournfully.

"Uh-uh, Will; Xander isn't gonna leave," Buffy said determinedly.

"How do you know that, Buffy?" Willow demanded. "How do you know that after Xander wakes up, he won't just head home straightaway – that, that Pylea place?"

"No, I mean – he, he can't open a portal to a demon dimension just like that within the Sunnydale town limits! What with the Hellmouth's influence..." Tara started to say.

"WHAT?" most of the people present demanded.

"This guy lives in a demon dimension?" Nina asked in disbelief.

"Whoa, whoa, hold it! Tara, what are you talking about, a demon dimension? You..." Buffy started to say, before she recalled that conversation from a few nights ago and whirled around to face her boyfriend. "Angel? You said you knew someone who came from there – I mean, is Tara right about where Xander lives nowadays?"

"Yeah," Angel nodded. He knew there was no point trying to hide anything anymore, now that Tara had let the cat out of the bag. He noticed the blonde Wiccan withdraw slightly as he said, "That's why I said he should be the one to tell you the truth."

"Oh, of all the MORONIC...Giles, you still got those manacles from when that crazy killer priest showed up in here last year? Dig 'em out, we've gotta lock Xander up for his own good 'til I talk some sense into him! 'Cause we're not letting him go back to some freaking demon dimension!" Buffy shouted, overreacting a little while recalling her own foray into such a place during the summer of 1998.

"Uh, Buffy...are, are you sure that's wise? I mean, um – h-how exactly do you think the boy will react upon waking to find himself, uh, chained up?" Giles pointed out with some concern.

"He's right, love. I mean, you know what Xander's like when he gets angry," Angel added.

Buffy ignored their counsel and began to look for the shackles herself, before Willow stopped her. "Buffy. Don't. You're just gonna make a bad situation worse!"

"What? Willow..."

"Buffy, LISTEN to me! Do you honestly think that Xander is still your friend, like he was back in high school?" Willow's sea-green eyes bored into Buffy's blue-green ones as the redhead held the Slayer's arms tightly. "Because he's not. You burned all your bridges with him completely that night, just like me and Giles – so what you're planning to do now will only make Xander hate you!"

The Slayer refused to acknowledge that to be true. "Look, I know he'll get upset, but I have to do this! Because the alternative is-"

"Unthinkable?" Willow cut her off. "Buffy, do you really imagine that Xander will ever forgive you for attempting to force him into doing something that he doesn't want to do – just like last time? Are you TRYING to get rid of him for another five years? Damn it, Buffy, I know you're concerned about Xander; we all are – but you do something like this, and you're totally crossing a line. Just like that day you ripped Dawn's book apart, and I had to play diplomat between you!"

"That's completely different!" Buffy shouted, shaking Willow's arms off and looking somewhat upset by the red-haired woman's outburst.

"Question occurring," Oz spoke up, as all the others gathered around. "Xander's not a demon or a vampire. So – he can press criminal charges against you if you chain him up like one, right?"

"What?" the Chosen One stared at the werewolf in confusion.

"Yeah, Oz has got a point; the police could become involved later on, depending on how pissed Xander gets," Angel said worriedly as he went over to his girlfriend's side. "Buffy, forget it. Not only could you end up in jail for doing something like this, you can't afford to risk losing custody of Dawn!"

"Go to jail? Lose custody of Dawn?" Buffy asked, her illusions finally shattered and her face looking as if she had never contemplated such possibilities before.

Nina withdrew from the group as Willow continued trying to persuade Buffy not to do something foolish, the werewolf shaking her head as she went over to Wesley; who was still examining the Mutari generator carefully. "Tell me something. Are these people completely insane?"

"Hmm? Oh, no, not at all," Wes shook his head as he finally put the Mutari generator down. "This is just a normal day on the Hellmouth, if memory serves."

"Well, I think I'll pass," Nina said cynically, following Wes as they headed toward the rest of the group.

"Oz, Angel? A word, if I may," Wesley called out, as both the werewolf and the former vampire came over; leaving Giles, Willow, Buffy and Tara to talk-slash-argue amongst themselves.

"What is it, Wes?" Angel asked.

"I believe we three ought to head back to Los Angeles," Wesley indicated himself, Oz and Nina. "Because Ms. Ash and Willow have confirmed that Illyria is dead, however Mr. Harris accomplished the feat; and I'd say there's nothing pertinent I can learn regarding that Mutari generator that's inexplicably shown up. Our purpose for coming to Sunnydale has been accomplished, and the world is as safe as it can be. Angel, do you know of any reason why our presence might be needed here any longer?"

Angel exhaled. "I guess not. I mean, this thing with Xander leaving the Hellmouth, I'm sure we'll sort something out eventually; I just don't know what yet."

"Piece of advice; if you don't want the guy heading off to Demon World, get Cordelia to convince him to stay," Oz said calmly.

"Why her?" Wesley asked, recalling his own history with the Chase woman. ( _That's another reason to leave Sunnydale, I suppose; it's not like I ever want to run into that particular harpy again..._ )

Nina and Oz shared a look before the male werewolf said, "Cordy's scent is pretty much all over him. And there's only one way for her to have accomplished that."

"You mean – those two are back together again?" Angel asked with a big dose of chagrin. It was times like this the ex-vampire hated the limitations of his human body, which prevented him from being able to smell such things for himself.

Before Oz could answer, Wesley's cell phone rang. "Hello?" the Englishman said into the mouthpiece.

#Oy, Giles The Next Bloody Generation, where the sodding hell are you?# a very familiar Cockney voice barked irately in Wesley's ear.

"Spike? I'm here in Sunnydale, along with Oz and Ms. Ash. What's going on? Where are you?" the head of the detective agency asked.

#I'm 'ere at the damn hospital, o'course! Thing is, some Kith'harn demons showed up and tried to abduct my boy-#

"Is William alright?" Wes interrupted in concern.

#Yeah, he's healing up all good 'n proper. But the demon muscle worked for some wanker named Cyvus Vail; or at least that's what the Kith'harn said 'fore I killed them. You 'eard of this bloke, by any chance?#

"Indeed, he's a powerful sorcerer who often works for Wolfram & Hart. And according to my information, Vail is a bitter enemy of that time-shifter demon we encountered a few months back, Sahjhan," Wesley recalled in sudden concern.

#You mean, that tosser who went and sic'ed that stupid git Wood on ta me and my sprog?#

"Yes. Look, Spike, we're on our way back to Los Angeles; just hold tight until we get there," Wesley told him, before saying goodbye and snapping his phone shut. The disappointment from having failed to personally kill Illyria finally abating, Wes quickly put the past behind him and turned his attention to the present and the future.

Namely, returning home to help safeguard the miracle child, and finally making arrangements for Harry's funeral.

* * *

><p><strong>Sunnydale High Parking Lot, Sunnydale<strong>

**The same time**

Cordelia's car screeched to a halt in a noxious cloud of burnt rubber and gas fumes, before the dark-haired woman got out and started running for the front entrance of the high school.

Ms. Chase failed to even get halfway there, unfortunately, before a tranquilliser dart knocked her unconscious – and strong male hands lifted her up and took her back to the lot, quickly dumping her into an anonymous Lincoln Town Car.

It was just too bad for Cordelia that Patrice had had the bright idea of getting Warren to bug the fantasy novelist's cell phone...

* * *

><p><strong>Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale<strong>

**A few minutes later**

Buffy wandered her way through the school corridor, trying to wrap her mind around everything that Willow had said concerning Xander's feelings; as well as what Oz had said to her in private out in the parking lot, about enlisting Cordelia's help concerning the Harris situation.

It was odd how the prickliness she'd always felt in the male werewolf's presence, ever since learning that Oz had killed that guy named Ben, had now greatly diminished in nature. Maybe it had been the passing of time; or maybe it was because, in comparison to the current situation, all that didn't really seem to matter anymore. But whatever the explanation, Buffy was grateful for the fact that things between her and Oz were now much better than what they had been before.

( _That doesn't mean he's necessarily right about the Cordelia angle, though,_ ) the Slayer cogitated as she walked towards the library. ( _Still, if she can actually help out for once? Then I guess I can't object if it means preventing Xander from heading off to some evil demon paradise... _)

"Excuse me? I was wondering if you could tell me where the reunion is taking place tonight," a bearded man in a suit called out, attracting Buffy's attention from down the corridor.

"Sure, it's over in the gym-" Buffy abruptly cut herself off. "Hey, don't I know you?"

The stranger smiled as he started to take his right hand out of his pants pocket, and that was what did it for Buffy. She had seen that facial expression too many times not to recognize it, despite the camouflage provided by the beard. "WARREN-!"

PHUT! PHUT! The silenced Glock 9mm pistol sent its deadly cargo in her direction, and it was only thanks to her incredible Slayer reflexes that Buffy was able to dodge Warren's bullets. ( _Damn it, I REALLY hate guns! _)

The Chosen One quickly did a cartwheel and then back-flipped her way over to the Tarakan assassin, yanking the pistol away from him and angrily bending the end of the barrel backwards in a neat arc after tossing aside the silencer. Throwing the now-useless weapon away Buffy then punched Warren hard in the face before saying, "Have you forgotten just what a Slayer is capable of, jerk?"

Warren, who had only stumbled back from the blow instead of winding up unconscious, didn't seem upset in the slightest. "I think it's you who's forgotten what I'm capable of – BITCH! Just tell Harris that we've got his woman, if you happen to survive."

"What are you..." Buffy trailed off as she saw Warren tear at his clothes and then his chest – to reveal the interior electronic parts of a robot.

( _No, no, no! _) Thanks to her Slayer-sense suddenly screaming warnings at her, the blonde Chosen One turned around and began to run – just as the Warren robot pressed something within its innards, and then it exploded.

BOOOM! In a loud explosion that was somewhat reminiscent of what had happened to the original Sunnydale High, the ceiling and the corridor walls alongside the robot were blown apart from the concussive force of the detonation. The blast wave from the robot-bomb also lifted Buffy up and then slammed her face-down onto the floor as the lethal shrapnel somehow, miraculously, missed her completely.

It also brought the high school reunion to an abrupt and premature end, as the few attendees who had shown up so far quickly rushed outside. They hadn't forgotten what had taken place five years ago, and they weren't eager to be part of a repeat performance tonight.

"BUFFY? Buffy!" Giles yelled out, coming out of the library, Willow and Tara trailing after him and Angel carrying Xander in a fireman's lift.

"I'm okay!" the Chosen One called back, even though her clothes (which she'd chosen especially for the reunion) were more or less completely ruined. Buffy got up and let out a small whine as she saw how extensive the damage to her wardrobe was. "Damn it, there goes three months' worth of clothes budget..."

"We need to get out of here," Angel said urgently, readjusting Xander's weight slightly. "Come on, let's go!"

* * *

><p><strong>The Magic Box, Sunnydale<strong>

**A while later**

Everyone had arrived at Slayer Central, and the gang was listening to Buffy's account of what had happened at the school – when Xander finally woke up.

"Aaaargggggghhhhhhh!" Harris screamed, his hands flying to his eyes in order to shield them from the magic store's fluorescent lights, and the blinding after-effects of Harry Doyle's departure. "Oh, shit, my eyes..."

"Xander, are you okay?" Willow's scared voice filtered into his consciousness.

"What's wrong with your eyes? Can you see anything?" Buffy's voice asked in obvious concern.

"I don't know," Harris grunted. He tried opening them a little, but the ambient lighting was way too bright. "Could somebody please kill the damn lights in here?"

"Just a moment," Tara's anxious voice said, before Xander heard her footsteps heading towards the light switch. There was a soft click and the shopkeeper then said, "How's this?"

"Better, thank you," Xander told her gratefully, blinking rapidly as his vision slowly started to come back. "Thank God, I thought that Harry woman might have blinded me or something..."

"HARRY?" Angel said incredulously.

"Yeah, I...wait a minute, this isn't Sunnydale High, it's the Magic Box. Holy shit – was all that just a dream?" Xander demanded in amazement.

"Dream? Uh, Xander – you killed that Illyria person earlier on tonight, and I found you a few seconds after you sent me to get help. You were trapped underneath her corpse," Willow told him gently, not sure exactly what Harris was talking about. "We, um, we sorta brought you here afterwards?"

"Oh. Then it wasn't all a dream," Xander mused. "Okay. Uh, Angel, I should mention Harry asked me to say goodbye to you and your friends for her; and to tell you that she loves you guys very much. Then she nearly frickin' blinded me..."

"Wait a minute. I thought Wes said that woman had been killed lately?" Buffy asked hesitantly, looking at Xander oddly.

"She was," Angel said with a hollow tone of voice, recalling Wesley's account of the seer's brutal death. "But then death isn't necessarily the end in our world, is it? Xander, on behalf of all of us who knew her – thank you. Both for the message, and for avenging Harry's murder."

"You're welcome," Xander said simply, gingerly getting off the table to finally stand on his own two feet – and rubbing his throat where Illyria had almost throttled him. "Man, that blue-haired sucker had major grip."

"Um, could you, uh, tell us w-what happened?" Tara stammered. "Where you got that Mutari generator from, and, um, what happened to that splinter of wood in your palm?"

"Yeah, but first I have a few questions. Tara, do you know somebody named Rack?" Xander asked her.

"Yeah, he-he's a magic dealer here in Sunnydale," Tara said in surprise, glancing over at Willow; who briefly looked ashamed. The Maclay woman then added, "He's into dark magicks, which a-a-are addictive and dangerous."

"Listen up; don't you EVER go near that guy," Xander warned Tara in a commanding tone of voice, recalling Future Buffy's words regarding some sort of lethal magical duel which the Wiccan had lost. "If there's ever a reason for you to do so, find someone else to do it."

"Why?" Willow asked in confusion.

"Let's just say that, from what I've heard, your girlfriend's life might depend on it." Before anyone could demand more detail about that Harris subsequently asked, "Angel, are you planning to ask Buffy to marry you anytime soon?"

"WHAT?" Buffy shrieked, staring first at Xander and then at her boyfriend with a look that was half-shock and half-joy.

"Did Dawn tell you about that? Damn it, she promised me she'd keep it a secret!" Angel grumbled, just before Buffy threw herself into his arms and hugged him tightly. "Anyway, Xander, why do you ask?"

"If you two ever have kids, don't let Buffy talk you out of making sure they know self-defence from a very young age," Xander said, deciding not to mention anything about Santa Claus at this point in time.

"What?" and "Why?" just about everybody asked at the same time.

"Just trust me on that. And final question, does anybody here know a guy named Warren Mears?" Harris asked.

"What the hell do you know about HIM?" Buffy demanded, still feeling a bit sore after the explosion at the school – not to mention a little off-kilter from Xander's questions, and from the news that her boyfriend was planning to propose.

"According to my information, that guy's here in Sunnydale. Along with that fake Police Lady, Patti or whatever her name is. They both work for the Order of Taraka, and I'm pretty sure they came here to kill me," Xander told her.

"You mean Patrice? That phony cop who tried to kill me six, nearly seven years ago?" Buffy asked in amazement.

"Xander, this i-i-is absurd!" Giles spluttered. "I mean, how, how would they even know you were here? And, and it's a known fact that every member of that organization works alone-"

"Yeah, but apparently this isn't official business," Xander cut him off, flashing back to that meeting with Warren in the Chase residence. "And the Order had an informant here in town. Don't ask who; all you need to know is he's someone I've got to deal with myself."

"What do you mean, 'deal with'?" Willow asked, hoping that that didn't mean what she thought it meant.

"I don't know, at least not yet. I mean, I can't just kill him, Cordy would never forgive me...by the way, does anybody know where she is right now?" Xander asked, looking around and seeing everyone's expression change. "What?"

"Uh, Xander, the thing is I kinda ran into Warren at the school a few minutes ago – well, a lame-ass robot version of him, anyway – and just before the darn thing exploded, it said, 'tell Harris that we've got his woman'. Oz had kinda filled in the blanks, before the LA crowd left town; so, I guess Cordelia's been kidnapped," Buffy said, looking a bit apprehensive.

The Xander Harris of five years ago would have instantly panicked. He would have instinctively asked Buffy what to do, and followed her lead, no matter what.

But that Xander was dead and gone nowadays; and the man who was a former prison convict, not to mention a vampire hunter and a warrior against the Covenant of Trombli, quickly came up with his own ideas on how to rescue Cordelia from Warren and Patrice.

TBC...


	15. Endgame

See Chapter One for disclaimer and details. Welcome, everyone, and happy Friday the 13th! Thanks to everybody who's been reading and reviewing the story, it's amazing how many reviews this fic has gotten over the past month or so – the only one to beat it is my 31 Days of Xanderween series! Anyway, thanks again and enjoy the latest chapter as I begin to tie off loose ends, and prepare for the big finale...

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Fifteen: Endgame<strong>

**Somewhere on Parkview Crescent, Sunnydale**

**March 13th, 2004**

The game had reached the bottom of the ninth, as Tara and Xander headed for the Chase residence in the witch's car.

Everyone else was busy with their own tasks – for example, Giles had started looking up stuff in his books concerning the Order of Taraka, while Willow was conducting a computer search to see if Warren and Patrice's location could traced electronically. Buffy had gone to Willy's Bar to interrogate the local snitch (and beat up his demon clientele, no doubt), while Angel had gone to collect Dawn from her friend Kit's house.

As Xander had mentioned, leaving the Slayer's little sister there was the equivalent of offering the bad guys a free opportunity to acquire another hostage. And there was no point in letting that happen.

But be that as it may, Harris had headed for the Chase mansion along with Tara to acquire something of Cordelia's in order to do a locator spell; because if nothing else, without him there, the odds were that Tim would simply slam the door shut in Tara's face.

"I'm confused," Tara said slowly to Xander, who was watching the scenery pass by. "You could have learned about Rack, and that Warren guy, from almost anyone in the group. But how exactly did you know Angel was planning to ask Buffy to marry him? For some reason, I – well, I-I kinda doubt Dawnie spilled the beans."

Xander shook his head. "I can't tell you; the Temporal Prime Directive."

"The what?" Ms. Maclay obviously didn't get the pop-culture reference.

"Never mind. Let's just say that I know now what Drusilla was talking about, when that crazy bitch and I last spoke in Pylea," Xander replied cryptically.

Tara abruptly recalled the undead seer's words Harris had mentioned during the other night. She then quickly made the connection and stammered, "You've experienced some sort of, of time travel? To the, the past, a-a-and the future?"

"Tara. You're wanting answers to questions you shouldn't be asking," Xander rebuked her gently.

"Well, can you at least tell me what happened when you disappeared out of the Magic Box? I mean, something did happen to you o-outside the normal space-time continuum, right?" Upon receiving no reply, Tara figured that pretty much answered her question and mused, "It's so strange, knowing that there's an aspect of your life that you don't know anything about; but someone else does..."

"It doesn't matter," Xander told her, as they arrived outside Cordelia's house. "Because like I've said before – nothing is ever set in stone. And to borrow a line from the Terminator movies, there is no fate but that which we make for ourselves."

As they got out of the car, Tara smiled. "I get now why Willow doesn't want you to go back to Pylea. Sorry I spilled the beans about that while you were unconscious, by the way."

Xander shrugged, recalling the resulting conversation in the Magic Box after that subject had been broached. "So Buffy overreacted a little, wanting to chain me up like an axe-murderer. It's not like she could have held me prisoner forever; and it's hardly the worst idea she's ever had, either. That particular honor has to be thinking that she or Willow or Giles could actually say or do anything to influence me anymore, in any way."

Tara grimaced upon hearing that. The rest of the walk up the drive was in silence, as she got the hint that no further answers would be forthcoming. And upon arriving at their destination, Xander knocked on the door.

"Yes-? Oh, Señor Harris, it is you," Lupe the maid said, opening the door but not issuing a direct invitation to enter. Just like any other long-term resident of Sunnydale would have done.

Xander and Tara entered the mansion, and the maid shut the door behind them. "Is Tim here?" Harris asked Lupe.

"Yes, Mr. Chase is in the main den. I will fetch him," the Spanish woman said before she hurriedly walked off.

"This house – it's huge. And yet, it's almost empty," Tara stated, looking around.

"Cordy hasn't had a chance yet to buy most of the Chase family stuff back. But I'm thinking in a few more years, she will," Xander mentioned in an off-hand manner. "You shoulda seen this place back in the old days, though. Whatever else you might say about 'em, Cordy's parents had a taste for the most expensive things available."

"Yeah – for all the good that did Uncle David and Aunt Julia in the end," Tim said with a scowl, as he entered the mansion's lobby. "What are you doing here, Harris? I thought we'd agreed that if you HAD to stay on the premises, you'd confine yourself to the pool house?"

"Cordy's been kidnapped," Xander said bluntly. His mind was full of memories of the last time he'd talked with this man during 2005, and thus Harris was keeping one eye out for Warren at all times.

"What? Of all the – when? And have you called the police?" Tim demanded at once.

"They, they couldn't help," Tara stammered. "It's, it's the Order of Taraka..."

Concern immediately changed to fury as Tim yelled, "You mean, this is all YOUR fault?" before he charged forward to knock Xander's teeth out.

( _What the..._ ) Tara was stunned to see the Pylean freedom fighter easily avoid the punch, grab the other man's arm, wrench it behind his back, grab his head and then casually smash the attacker's face into the wall. She then witnessed Xander whisper something into Tim's ear, and all the fight seemed to instantly drain out of Mr. Chase as Harris subsequently released him.

"What's going on?" she asked timidly.

"Nothing for you to worry about, Tara," Xander replied, even if his gaze was centred on Cordelia's cousin. "Now, why don't you go with Lupe to Cordy's room and find something to do that locator spell with? Blood or hair is usually the best stuff to work with, right? Maybe Lupe can find you one of Cordy's used hairbrushes or something..."

Fighting off the dizziness and ignoring the pain as best he could, Tim waited until both the Wiccan and the maid were out of earshot, and then he demanded of Xander, "What the hell makes you say that Cordelia's pregnant, you asshole?"

"And here I thought you'd be more interested in why she's been kidnapped," Xander said, strolling forward.

Tim stepped forward himself, his hands clenching into fists once more. "I can already guess about that, you low-life son of a bitch! Why the hell did you ever even have to come back into our lives-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I've heard it all before," Xander interrupted him, even if Cordelia's cousin didn't know just how literal that statement was. "Look, how sure are you this place isn't bugged?"

"What?" Tim frowned. "No, I mean, that's ridiculous! Why would anyone have the house under electronic surveillance?"

( _Yeah, I suppose he's got a point. Why bother with something like that, when the Order of Taraka has its very own stool pigeon present?_ ) Xander thought to himself.

So he said, "All right, then I'm assuming you haven't noticed any strange vans or anything hanging around the estate today. But whatever; I'm afraid we need to talk, Timmy."

"Don't call me that! Only Cordelia calls me that!" Tim shouted angrily.

"Well, would you prefer I call you Mr. Jellyfish instead?" Xander asked straightforwardly.

Chase immediately seemed to become as white as a ghost. "What, what are you..."

"Yep – see, we sorta have a problem," Xander dropped a sinewy muscled arm across Tim's shoulders as he started to walk the other man around in a tight circle. "I mean normally, I'd have just broken both your legs and thrown you to the vamps as a free meal. But like I said, Cordelia's gonna have a baby in nine months; and I'm the father. So, whether I like it or not, that's gonna make you family. And I'd rather not tell the mother of my child that the only reason you got in contact with her five years ago, is because the Order of Taraka blackmailed you into it; or that you ratted me out to those people almost straight after I showed up here. Heck – we both know what Cordy's temper is like, and just how long she can hold a grudge, right?"

"Well, yeah," Tim stammered, suddenly feeling like he was trapped in a nightmare.

( _How the hell did he find out what I...?_ ) Chase then started to cogitate, before his train of thought was quickly derailed by the sound of the other man's voice.

"Now, it doesn't matter how I know what I know, or what exactly those people have got on you to have forced ya to squeal on me like that," Xander said, almost as if he was reading Tim's mind. "Because I have a plan. And if everything works out okay, we'll rescue Cordy, and she'll never have to know about this particular conversation. Hell, with any luck, after those two assassins are taken care of? We'll keep everything strictly between us, you'll get off Cordelia's back about anything to do with me, and there's gonna be a whole lifetime of birthdays and Christmases for you to attend after Erica's born."

"Erica – that's, that's my mother's name," Tim said dumbly, only faintly aware that he was still walking around in a circle.

"Really? I did not know that." Xander suddenly brought them both to a halt, and he stared Tim directly in the eye. "Now, you're gonna have to do something for me."

"What?"

"Make a phone call that just might get you killed, if anything goes wrong with my plan."

* * *

><p><strong>Sunnydale Motor Inn, Sunnydale<strong>

**A while previously**

Cordelia came to slowly and groggily, the effects of the tranq dart finally wearing off; only for the young woman to discover herself chained to Warren's bed, just like the Amy vampire before her. Well, apart from the whole naked thing.

"HEY! What the hell is this? Oh, whoever you are, you're SO gonna be sorry you ever messed with Cordelia Chase!" the brunette shouted, rattling her chains and quickly reminded of similar incidents during high school. ( _God. Maybe Timmy had a point all along, about being part of this sort of thing..._ )

Warren and Patrice quickly entered the room. "I told you we should have gagged her," Mears said to his old mentor.

"Irrelevant. Hold her still while I inject her with the Veritas serum," Patrice ordered.

"What are you two talking about?" Cordy demanded, even though she knew enough Latin to guess that she was about to be hit with some sort of truth drug. The young woman struggled until Warren indulged his former misogynistic tendencies and punched Cordelia viciously in the face, which allowed Patrice to dope up the prisoner.

"Ohh...that hurt," Cordelia said dazedly, as the truth drug passed through the blood-brain barrier after being injected into the back of her neck.

"Start talking," Patrice ordered the brunette. "Tell us everything you've learned about Alexander LaVelle Harris since he came back to the Hellmouth, a few days ago."

Thus, Cordelia talked. She couldn't tell Patrice and Warren what she didn't know, like where Xander was right now or what exactly had happened to render him unconscious within the school; but everything else was free game, including where Harris had been living for the past eighteen months.

"Pylea? Never heard of it," Warren shook his head and staring at Cordy, who had now lapsed into silence.

"I have. Not a nice place for humans, or humanoids," Patrice said shortly.

"Your source hasn't been fully cooperative. Obviously, Mr. Jellyfish needs to be dealt with," Warren noted almost in passing.

"So, see to it his life gets ruined," Patrice said, sounding as if she really didn't care.

"The Wolfram & Hart angle concerns me," Warren added. "What if the target lied to this narcissistic shrew, and he's still secretly working for that law firm?"

"Impossible. No one connected with the Wolf, Ram and Hart can enter Sunnydale, that's common enough knowledge," Patrice told her fellow assassin. "What worries me is the fact that Harris was at the school, roughly when your robot-bomb was detonated. By this point he might have run for it all over again, despite this troubling Illyria business..."

The motel room's phone rang and Warren answered it, giving his standard ID response. Then his eyes narrowed. Mears said to Patrice, "It's for you. Looks like your canary's finally got something to sing about."

"Yes, Mr. Jellyfish?" the female assassin said eagerly.

#Uh – there's a gun being pointed directly at my head as I'm speaking, here,# Tim's voice said nervously, something which was clearly audible despite the anti-bugging interference.

"What are you tal-" Patrice started to say, when the load roar of a gunshot could be heard over the phone. "Mr. Jellyfish! Respond!"

#This time, I do not run from you.#

Despite herself, Patrice was a little startled upon recognizing Xander's voice. This wasn't at all how she had dreamed that this moment would finally take place; in her fantasies, Harris was always on his knees begging for his life, or something equally humiliating.

Not talking to her over the phone calmly and confidently, after exterminating her deep-cover spy.

( _Never mind. That greedy fool has fulfilled his purpose, one way or another._ ) "I'm somewhat interested to hear that you actually wish to stand and fight this time, Mr. Harris. It seems you're no longer that pathetic clown who needed a vampire to save him from certain death," Patrice replied coldly.

#Don't piss me off, you killer bitch. I don't think you understand just what kind of trouble you and your buddy Warren Mears are in.#

"What are you talking about? And how is it that you're familiar with Mr. Mears?" Patrice demanded, staring at her former protégé accusingly.

#All you need to know is that if I make the right phone call, your names and photographs – as well as your connection to the Order of Taraka – will appear on every news website, every chat room, and every fricking bulletin board throughout the Internet. And after that happens, I figure you two will have between one day to one week before your own people hunt you down, and slaughter you both like animals,# Xander's ice-cold voice said over the phone.

"There is no way you could be in possession of our photographs, and exposing both Mr. Mears and I on the Internet would be signing your own death warrant, no matter which demon dimension you tried to hide in afterwards. You're bluffing, Mr. Harris," Patrice said vehemently, but there was something in her voice which now had Warren extremely alarmed.

#Am I? The only reason I haven't done it yet, is because you have something that belongs to me.#

"Ah. You mean your lover, Ms. Chase," Patrice said with a sudden smile. "Yes, I have her. Perhaps I ought to kill her in revenge for her role in slaying one of my former colleagues? You remember Norman Pfister, don't you Mr. Harris?"

#You don't forget your first kill from the Order of Taraka, lady. Still, the way I heard it, you pricks don't do revenge. The money is supposedly all you care about, right?#

"Like Mr. Mears pointed out to me recently, Mr. Harris, the bounty from a job doesn't always have to be financial in nature. Now, I assume you're going to offer yourself in exchange for Ms. Chase, in some sort of grandiose if predictable gesture?"

#And have either you or Mears shoot me the moment I show my face? I know how these things are done, ya know.#

"Do you, Mr. Harris? Personally, I doubt you even knew the Order's contract on your life was nullified five years ago-"

BAM! BAM! BAM!

The bullets from Warren's spare gun – a Browning HP35 – unexpectedly tore through Patrice's chest, just as soon as the red-haired woman made the mistake of admitting that this wasn't a legitimate operation in front of her subordinate. Warren had shot her, just as any other member of the Order would have, for abandoning her duties in Washington and doing what she'd done as part of a private vendetta.

The female killer clutched at her bloody wounds, glaring hatefully at Warren. ( _I'll kill you very slowly for this, you ungrateful little bastard!_ )

But knowing that his bullets weren't enough Mears tossed aside the gun, weaved his way around Patrice's outstretched arms and wrapped his hands around her head. With a sickening CRACK! Warren ruthlessly broke the woman's neck; before snatching the phone from his ex-boss's hand, as her corpse collapsed onto the floor.

"Xander Harris, this is Warren Mears. Patrice is now out of the picture – permanently," Warren said coolly into the phone.

#Somehow, I find that hard to believe.#

"Believe it or not, it makes no difference to the current situation. Look, Harris, I didn't know until five seconds ago how this wasn't a sanctioned hit. And personally, I have no interest in you," Warren said reasonably. "I agreed to help Patrice terminate you because she was my superior in the Order, but that's no longer relevant. What's relevant is that I came here to kill the Slayer, pure and simple."

#Well...I have heard what you, Jonathan and that other guy got up to against Buffy way back when. And according to rumor, you do have a prior record of killing two of your own. So – your former boss really is dead, isn't she? Huh. Kinda odd how I can't force myself to say thanks, because I was sorta looking forward to killing her myself.#

"Whatever. Here's the deal; I'll phone you at the Magic Box, with a time and a place where the bottle-blonde bitch will exchange herself for your girlfriend. Oh, and just in case that thing about exposing me and my organization wasn't a stupid bluff? It won't matter where you try to hide, we WILL find you. Whether that takes a month, a year, a decade or even a century."

#And here I thought you were smarter than good ol' Patti. You actually thought I was serious about that? Sure, if I asked her to do it – which I haven't – Willow could probably pull it off. But you think she wouldn't know what the consequences of doing that sort of thing would be? That the Order wouldn't kill her and probably everyone else in the Scooby Gang, just to send a message to everyone out there about trying something like that?#

"Good, then I won't have to kill her. Or you. Or anyone, apart from Summers," Warren said with his typical professional calm. "Wait for my call, Harris. I'll be in touch." With that, Warren hung up.

Mears then snorted in amusement, as he glanced at the unconscious Cordelia chained to the bed; someone who had been fast asleep since before her cousin Tim had rung the now-deceased Patrice.

* * *

><p><strong>The Magic Box, Sunnydale<strong>

**Approximately an hour later**

"Why is this taking so LONG?" Buffy shouted, pacing around the magic store. "Damn it, what's Warren up to?"

"The better question is, what the hell has he done with Cordelia?" Tim demanded, shooting an unfriendly look at Xander. He'd almost had a heart attack earlier on, when Harris had nearly shot him with the pistol Cordelia had bought for defence against burglars – and then Xander had grabbed the phone out of his shaking hand to conduct the conversation with Patrice and Warren.

"I'm sure she's fine, for now at least," Giles said to Cordelia's cousin; someone whom Tara had mistakenly told the Scoobies had received a phone call from the brunette's kidnappers, instead of initiating it.

"How can you know that? I mean, didn't you people tell me that this guy once murdered a woman, and then he attempted to frame her for it?" Tim gestured towards Buffy.

"Yeah," the Slayer nodded reluctantly. That night when Buffy had encountered those Rwasundi demons – and interesting historical sidebar, it had been Giles who had identified that interdimensional species instead of the long-vanished Anya – and what she had done to Spike in that alley near the Sunnydale P.D. precinct were not good memories, as far as the Chosen One was concerned.

"But, but he had help when Warren tried to pull something like that off, a-and his partners-in-crime are both dead now," Willow tried to sound reassuring.

"Because he killed them, right?" Tim asked semi-sarcastically.

"Well, according to the report Willow hacked from the coroner's office, that was never actually proven," Dawn piped up, trying to be helpful.

"Oh, Jesus, what the hell is a KID doing mixed up in this sort of thing?" Tim asked, looking at the human incarnation of the Key in exasperation.

"HEY! Don't call me a kid, mister! And Cordelia's my friend, which is a lot more than you can say for most of the people in this room!" Dawn told Tim angrily.

Angel got up off of his chair and said, "Let's all just calm down, shall we? Mr. Chase, I know you're worried; we all are. But we'll get Cordelia back. It's what we do." He then turned to look at Tara. "How's that locator spell going?"

"Uh, it's getting there. Willow, honey, how are you doing?" the Wiccan asked her girlfriend tenderly.

"I'm good. I'm coping. In fact, this is a lot easier than I thought it'd be," Willow sent Tara a quick smile, rather surprised at how little temptation there was these days to fall off the wagon and do a spell of her own.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tim asked in a rather demanding tone of voice.

"I'm, uh, a reformed magic addict," Willow confessed painfully.

"You're a what? Christ almighty, Harris, what kind of people are these friends of yours?" Tim demanded of Xander heatedly.

"Slayer, Watcher, witch, hacker, Key, and ex-vampire," Xander indicated each of the Scoobies in turn. "And like I said to the ghost of that Harry woman recently, I'm not sure if you should be referring to them as my friends. Not the majority of them, anyway."

While many of the Scoobies looked upset Tim looked like his entire world had shattered into incomprehensible shards that, no matter how hard he tried, he could never glue back together to form a coherent whole. He tried to say something, failed, tried to say something else, failed again, and so he just sat down in defeat and simply prayed that someone up there was watching over his cousin tonight.

Buffy made a decision, and dragged Xander into the back room for some privacy. To her annoyance, Harris immediately headed over to the weapons area before the Slayer said, "We need to talk."

"About what?" Xander asked, as he started selecting various items off the wall rack.

"Hey, be careful-!" the Chosen One said before she saw Xander perform a complex series of moves with a mini-axe, before he slammed the weapon into the wall at roughly shoulder height. The Slayer asked, "Okay, where did you learn how to do that?"

"You don't survive jail, hunting down vampires like Darla and Drusilla, and spending nearly two years in a demon dimension without picking up a few tricks," Xander said as he yanked the mini-axe out of the wall. He then turned to face Buffy. "A world where there's no such thing as a Slayer, just in case Tara and Angel haven't mentioned it. Pylea's a place where we ordinary humans have to fight, and kill, and die without one."

"You're not going back there." Buffy tried her best not to make it sound like an order, mindful of recent entreaties from her friends and family on the matter.

"You're right, I'm not."

"You're not? Just like that?" Buffy was a bit astonished over how easily Xander had capitulated to her wishes.

"Yeah. And not because you're forbidding it, but because I have other priorities now. Well, as long as I can send a message to my people there that I'm still alive," Xander shrugged, much to Buffy's surprise. "It's been three days, I figure Groo and Fred must have given me up for dead by now."

"Who's Groo and Fred?"

"My best friends." Off Buffy's look, he elaborated, "Groo, think Angel when he was a vamp – but without the fangs or the brooding Cryptic Guy act. Fred, think Willow with dark hair – and someone who occasionally babbles at about one and a half times the speed," Xander briefly smirked.

"There was a time Willow and I were your best friends," Buffy observed quietly, feeling something beginning to dissolve between them. "Right up until you left Sunnydale, anyway."

"Yeah. Which is why I figure the best thing we can do is simply agree that we're never going to see eye to eye on what should have happened that night, and just leave it at that," Xander said as he remembered that so-called intervention. "We live in two different worlds now, Slay-gal. Plus, your future is here in Sunnydale, and mine is wherever Cordelia is. Whether that's here, or somewhere else."

"And you really mean that, don't you?" Buffy shook her head in astonishment.

"I sure do. Now if there's nothing else, I wanna see how Tara's going with that locator spell." So saying, Harris walked back out to the main area of the Magic Box.

Buffy shook her head again as if to clear it. The conversation hadn't exactly gone how she'd thought it would go.

But on the other hand, the former Scooby's stated plans for the future were something she could easily live with; since Buffy knew just about anything would be preferable to her Xander-shaped friend, if he could still be called that, returning to a nightmarish place where the Chosen One simply did not exist.

* * *

><p><strong>Crawford Street, Sunnydale<strong>

**The same time**

Warren had cleaned up the mess in his room at the Sunnydale Motor Inn, before disposing of Patrice's body. Throughout it all he had kept Cordelia carefully sedated, not wanting any further complications before carrying the pregnant young woman out to his car, settling the bill and then departing from the motel.

A large, abandoned-looking mansion suddenly caught the assassin's eye from within the Lincoln Town Car. ( _Yeah, that ought to do nicely..._ )

* * *

><p><strong>The Magic Box, Sunnydale<strong>

**Fifteen minutes later**

Giles saw the looks both Willow and Buffy were sending him, and exhaled in annoyance. ( _The things I do for those two..._ )

Rupert headed over to where Xander was sitting on the main counter, near the cash register. There was no one else within earshot as he said, "Ah, Xander – could I have a word?"

"What is it?"

"I, um, I just wanted to say you did rather well recently, from the sounds of things. During that phone call at Cordelia's house, I mean. Almost, uh, Machiavellian in nature, the way I heard it," Giles practically stumbled his way through the rehearsed speech.

"If that was supposed to be a compliment, thanks," Xander said with a small shrug.

( _Why the devil is he looking at me like that?_ ) Giles felt a little unnerved by Xander's unblinking stare.

There wasn't a trace of visible emotion present on the young man's face; something which ran counter to just about everything Rupert knew and understood about him. All those years ago, the ridiculous prat would make asinine comments and constantly shift his gaze around, consumed by inappropriate thoughts mostly relating to sex and ill-mannered comedy...

Not now, though. So Rupert looked deep into Xander's eyes, and he didn't like what he saw there. There was suspicion and something close to disdain in that silent, watchful gaze. ( _Good Lord, it looks like Willow wasn't exaggerating in the slightest... _)

( _Well, then, it seems that this so-called bridge-building thing might actually be necessary, after all. _) Giles cleared his throat and said, "Believe it or not, boy, over the years you HAVE been missed around here. Lord knows, no one could ever annoy me quite the way you did."

"And that's supposed to be a good thing?" Xander asked with a slightly upraised eyebrow.

"Well, no..." Rupert trailed off.

"Let's cut the crap, Giles – why are you talking to me? You already know everything Timmy and I said to the group earlier, and you and I aren't exactly friends, not anymore," Xander said levelly. "Willow and Buffy asked you to do this, didn't they? Extend an olive branch, so to speak."

Giles took his glasses off, and started to polish them. "Yes."

"Honesty. Interesting approach," Xander replied. "All right, then, if we're going to do this – tell me something. Did you really chain Spike up and put him in your bathtub, during Buffy's first year of college?"

"Err, not for long. Once we realized that his, um, chip had rendered him harmless to human beings, Joyce took Spike in for a while and let him live in her basement. Eventually he moved into some crypt or other, before he finally left town; but Joyce would have been, um, willing for Spike to stay if he'd asked her for sanctuary, I-I suspect."

"Kinda odd how she actually preferred that guy to Angel, isn't it? Your influence after Angelus tortured you, maybe?" Xander asked calmly. "And something in your voice tells me you still miss Mrs. Summers, Giles. Probably a lot more than Buffy and Dawn catch on, as well."

"What do you mean?"

"After Graduation, Cordy and I weren't here anymore. Ditto Wes and Angel. Buffy and Willow were having fun at UC Sunnydale, Oz had left the group, Spike woulda been an annoying pain in the ass – so who the hell else was there to share your life with?" Xander asked. "I can tell it was never anything more than friendship between you two, though. There's a certain look a guy gets after his woman is gone, but you don't have it. And I've met enough widowers, both here and in Pylea, to know what I'm talking about."

Rupert put his glasses back on, feeling a bit flustered by the unexpected level of insight. "This path you've chosen...isn't the easiest one you could have followed."

"Trying to change the subject so soon? I spent enough time in London to learn the appropriate reply is 'bad form, old man.' And for the record, you're wrong. It's the ONLY path I could have followed," Xander told him in no uncertain terms. "Because everyone I've met, everything I've done, every decision I've made since that night five years ago – it's all led me back here to Cordelia. Someone who, now that I've found her again, I don't ever intend to let go."

Harris jumped down off the counter. "Some free advice for you, Giles; don't spend the next thirty years all alone here on the Hellmouth. Because you're gonna end up all kinds of bitter and twisted if you do. Either go home to England, or get a life beyond Buffy and her Calling."

With that, Xander left the astonished Watcher behind as he headed towards the others. There was nothing else to be said between them, as far as he was concerned.

Tara's locator spell finally worked, practically at the same time that the expected phone call arrived at last.

Less than a minute later, the Scooby Gang (and guests) set out for Angel's old mansion on Crawford Street, for the final showdown.

TBC...


	16. Let This Be Your Last Battlefield

See Chapter One for disclaimer and details. Welcome one and all to the penultimate chapter of the story! Truth be told, it's time to start wrapping this fanfic up, there's only one more chapter to go after this one; an epilogue of sorts. So I just wanted to say thanks again to everyone who's sent in reviews and feedback (of any sort) about this fanfic, you know who you are and you've been a true inspiration to me. THANK YOU! Well, time to get on with the fic; and you may well ask yourselves, who will live? Who will die? There will be character deaths and action a-plenty, but to learn more you must read...

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Sixteen: Let This Be Your Last Battlefield<strong>

**St. Matthew's hospital, Los Angeles**

**March 13th, 2004**

Spike cursed silently to himself, wanting to smoke a fag so badly it was almost bordering on psychotic obsession; and yet, he restrained himself by sheer willpower out of consideration for his son, who was still recovering from the injuries Illyria had inflicted a few days ago.

William junior was the one bright spot in Spike's existence now, after all. Oh, sure, the ensouled vampire was part of something larger than himself nowadays, plus he was living in some pretty posh digs and he'd become the favorite son for whatever High Almighties were Up There somewhere. But all that didn't make up for everything that had happened in the past...

Like getting captured and chipped by Captain Cardboard and his mates in Sunnydale.

Having to put up with the Scooby Gang for years on end, and witnessing how familiarity had quickly bred contempt within that lot.

Allowing Buffy to beat him up so badly during one night of sheer madness, that he'd been a shattered wreck for weeks afterwards.

Going all the way to Africa and undergoing quite a number of fiendish tortures, in order to obtain his human soul and win the heart of the woman he loved; only for the bloody chit to STILL reject him after he'd come back to California, a completely insane mess.

Arriving in the big city, and eventually watching Angel bask in the daylight before the big ponce had left to shack up with Buffy, and no doubt shag her senseless. _Grr._

Watching Harmony stake herself after he'd somehow impregnated the blonde twit, the soul she'd shared with her unborn son conferring the ability to make the ultimate sacrifice; and that one selfless act actually forcing him to mourn the Grandmother's loss.

Witnessing that bloody bastard Wood abduct his son before that Sahjhan bloke had become responsible for them ending up in the darkest of all the dark worlds, Quor-toth.

Trying to connect with the whelp when he'd come back, which had been shortly after that weird incident with the Vision Girl and those parasitic Sluk demons; and failing miserably every time.

And now, this latest thing with Lilah, or Illyria, or whatever the blinding blue blazes she wanted to call herself, putting William in the hospital – and those bloody demons showing up to kidnap him AGAIN?

( _Well, sod that._ )

Spike knew that he had made mistakes over the last hundred and twenty-odd years. Like being too subservient to the femmes in his life – Drusilla, Buffy, even his human mother. Being too impatient – Parent-Teacher Night, the chip, even helping Dog Boy kill that Ben guy in order to protect the Nibblet. Even being unable to think up anything to save Harmony at the last moment, due to being worried and distracted about the baby.

But now things were different, and Spike knew that the only way Vail's flunkies would be taking his son would be over his dusted body.

A wheezing voice said, "You should know I have no intention of killing your offspring. I simply need him to understand what his destiny is."

Spike, surprised that someone had actually snuck up on him, turned to face an individual with dark reddish skin and straggly, thinning, white hair. The demon was wearing a black hood and cloak as a disguise, and Spike saw that the new arrival was also carrying some sort of urn as well. "You're that Vail bloke the Watcher told me 'bout, are you?"

"Yes," Cyvus admitted, panting loudly.

"Then gimme one good reason not to rip yer bleeding throat out!" Spike growled.

"I could remove your soul in the blink of an eye. Make you willing and able to kill your own son, now that that chip is gone," Vail wheezed noisily. "Alternatively, I could make you and yours forget that he ever existed. Doubtless, Wolfram & Hart would pay well for my services; as they still want to strap the boy down and dissect him at their leisure."

"What do you bloody well want?" Spike hissed at the warlock furiously.

"I want someone dead. A demon...named Sahjahn," Cyvus intoned dramatically.

"That wanker?" Spike looked annoyed. "Haven't seen him fer ages. I thought he'd buggered off somewhere!"

"He did. Into here, after I made him corporeal." Vail held the Resikhian Urn up. "Ugly-looking thing, isn't it? Still, it holds Granok demons like him adequately enough."

"I don't get it. What's any o' this got to do with me or my boy?" Spike demanded.

"There exists a prophecy, vampire. An immutable one. That nasty little cur trapped in here did his best to erase all knowledge of the original text, but I know how it goes word for word; and there is only one person who can kill Sahjhan. The one sired by the vampire with a soul," Cyvus informed the undead version of Sid Vicious.

"You mean William," Spike growled, slipping into his demon face. "Well, I don't care. Screw your inevitable prophecy, mate! Alright, I'm grateful fer you trappin' that git in yer little doodad 'ere, but that's as far as it goes. If you've managed to get Sahjhan locked up, then I say let 'im rot!"

"Urns tend to break, and mortal enemies return when you least expect them. That's why I need finality to my affairs," Vail said, huffing and puffing like a man with emphysema.

At that moment, his bloodlust inflamed and his impulse control issues flaring up again, Spike would most likely have made a terrible mistake and physically attacked the warlock. But luckily for the British vampire, the rest of the Fang Gang – Wes, Oz and Nina – showed up at the end of the corridor, causing Vail to turn around as he sensed Wesley's magical abilities with his inner radar.

"We will speak again soon, William the Bloody. Sooner or later, your son has to fulfil his destiny," Cyvus said as he turned back to face Spike – and then the demon warlock slowly faded from sight, along with his urn.

"Who was that?" Oz asked as the trio joined Spike outside his son's hospital room.

"Trouble, I reckon," Spike said, surrendering to temptation and finally digging out a cigarette. "Lots and lotsa trouble."

Not long afterwards, Spike decided it might be better if he and William were to get out of Los Angeles for a while. And after coming to the conclusion that a trip to Sunnydale was in order, the rest would soon be history – in terms of the blonde-haired miracle child and the brunette Key finally meeting one another.

A history that only the higher powers and Xander Harris knew details about, as yet.

* * *

><p><strong>Crawford Street, Sunnydale<strong>

**The same time**

Angel was silent as he glanced at Buffy, Giles and Xander, who were all staring at his old mansion. For a brief moment, the former vampire thought it was too bad how Spike couldn't be here. He was the only other individual around now who had been involved in what had happened during that terrible morning, nearly six years ago.

Buffy's boyfriend turned to gaze upon his former home, even though it was a place that brought to mind bad memories that he didn't want to revisit right now. Neither did Buffy or Giles, from the looks on their faces. Oddly, Xander was the only one who looked completely expressionless as he pointed over towards the remains of the garage door.

"How come you never fixed that?" Harris asked.

It was a fair enough question, as Angel had lived here for nearly a year after returning from the hell dimension where Buffy had sent him; and the garage door still had a huge, gaping hole in it after Spike had literally driven through the damn thing with an unconscious Drusilla in the car's passenger seat, so long ago.

"I dunno. I guess because, in the old days, I never needed a car to get around in Sunnydale; and ever since I came back from LA – well, I more or less forgot about this place," Angel admitted.

"You used to live here?" Tim frowned, looking at the abandoned-looking residence.

"A long time ago," Angel told him.

"You mean – th-this is where Angelus, Spike and Drusilla used to live?" Tara said in minor awe, having heard the stories and now looking around avidly at the exterior of the mansion.

"Who? No, never mind, I don't care," Tim said swiftly. "All right, now that we're here – what's the plan for getting Cordelia back?"

"I'm gonna go in and get her," Buffy said simply, and then she frowned at all the looks being sent her way. "What? I will!"

"Uh, Buffy..." Willow started to say delicately.

"Maybe we need a plan other than that?" Tara finished up for her.

"You guys think I can't handle that asswipe by myself?" Buffy demanded hotly.

"Okay, you do know we're talking about the same asswipe who sent a robot version of himself to shoot at you at the school – and then the darn thing blew itself up, right?" Dawn wanted to know. "Come on, Buffy! Slayer or otherwise, you're not bullet-proof!"

"Dawn, stay out of this," Buffy ordered her sibling bluntly, despite the glare it earned her in return. She then said to Tim, "Look, Mr. Chase, I'm the Slayer. And I promise you, I know what I'm doing."

"Do you?" Tim challenged her. "Because it's my cousin's life we're talking about! And this guy isn't some idiot vampire or a demon! Seriously, you may have all those super-powers or whatever; but what the hell are you gonna do if you find this Mears character, and he puts a gun to Cordelia's head before he threatens to blow her away? If it comes to that, can you kill him before he kills her?"

Buffy was instantly uncomfortable. "It won't come to that-"

"Who the HELL do you think you're talking to? One of those teenage idiots you try to convince not to do drugs at that damned high school?" Tim roared furiously, cutting her off. "This isn't some fairy tale, where everyone lives happily ever after! Look, if Harris is right and the police simply aren't an option, then I'm just gonna have to come with you – and do whatever has to be done!"

Buffy glowered as she saw Tim pull out the gun Cordelia had bought for home defence. "Give me that, you're not gonna-"

"Buffy," Angel interrupted, resting his favorite broadsword across his shoulders and placing his free hand on his girlfriend's shoulder. "We don't have time to waste arguing amongst ourselves. If Mr. Chase wants to come, let him. He can take the tranquilliser rifle instead of the pistol, okay?"

"What? No way!" Tim protested at once. "I'm not gonna cripple myself for the sake of some retarded-"

Xander abruptly snatched the pistol out of his hands, and threw the tranq rifle at him; which Tim deftly caught. Harris said, "Best deal you're gonna get, Timmy. Besides, Buffy has this thing about guns where she likes to twist the barrel out of shape, so take my advice – and just go with the flow."

Most of those present were surprised to hear Xander say that. But then Buffy shook her head and said to Tim, "Look, no offense – but I can't afford to be distracted trying to look out for you, as well as trying to take down Warren at the same time. Just – stay here! We'll be back with Cordy soon." With that, Buffy headed for the front door of the mansion, Angel trailing closely behind.

Tim waited until the Slayer and her boyfriend were no longer visible and then said to Xander, "I'm going in after them. You coming?"

"Of course. Did you think I wouldn't?" Harris asked with a small smirk.

"Now see here! Buffy gave orders that you were to remain here, Mr. Chase, and as for you, Xander-" Giles started to say forcefully, before Tim just as forcefully hit the Englishman in the face with the rifle butt. Rupert immediately hit the ground like a sack of potatoes, out cold.

"GILES!" Willow, Tara and Dawn all yelled, clustering around the unconscious Brit.

"Huh. All this time I've been back in Sunnydale, I've had the oddest feeling that something was missing. But not anymore," Xander said, staring down at Buffy's Watcher.

"Harris!" Tim demanded impatiently. "Let's go!"

"No, Xander, don't! You're gonna get hur..." Willow trailed off as she saw the young man staring at her. His facial expression was cold. Hard. Not a trace of friendship was visible.

"What's that old saying, about how actions speak louder than words? Looks to me like you haven't changed a bit, Will. Not deep down where it matters, anyway," Xander said icily.

"Yes I have! Don't you remember how I practically begged you to forgive me for what I did a few nights ago?" Willow pleaded desperately with her childhood friend. "C'mon, Xander, is it a crime to be concerned about someone you love like a brother?"

"Is that how you see it? And crime, no. An offensive insult? Yes. And if you want to prove that you've changed, Willow, then don't assume that you know better than I do; just for once, TRUST ME," Xander said the last two words forcefully, his eyes boring into Willow's like lasers.

This was an aspect of Xander's personality Willow hadn't encountered before. Something tougher than diamonds, and stronger than steel. Something that had made Angelus turn around and leave Sunnydale General Hospital, during the bad old days; something that the young woman knew that not even her Resolve Face could triumph against.

Making a decision based on gut instinct, Willow impulsively hugged Xander tight before stepping back and letting Dawn do the same thing. And then, leaving the three women behind to take care of the unconscious librarian, Xander ran to catch up with Tim; whose patience with all the delays had finally run out completely.

* * *

><p><strong>The roof of Angel's mansion, Sunnydale<strong>

**The same time**

"Soon," Warren told the bound and gagged Cordelia softly, stroking her terrified cheek with his Browning 9mm. "They'll be here soon, I can feel it..."

* * *

><p><strong>Within Angel's mansion, Sunnydale<strong>

**A short while earlier**

Angel and Buffy had just entered the mansion's ballroom, and as if he wasn't affected enough by the current situation, the former vampire received a figurative kick in the balls when he realized where Buffy was looking at, and what kind of expression was on her face.

The Slayer was staring at the exact same place where, six years earlier, a stone demon called Acathla had been standing with its mouth open and about to swallow the whole world into Hell itself. And Buffy looked like she was reliving that entire terrible battle with his evil alter ego, despite the fact that Angelus was now history.

"Hey. You okay?" Angel asked as he looked around for any sign of Warren and Cordelia.

"Fine. It's just – I'd forgotten how cold this place was," Buffy said, putting aside the bad memories of the past and fighting the urge to shiver. "No wonder you used to have a fire going in here all the time."

Angel nodded, as he saw where Buffy was looking now. He said, "Guess I forgot to get rid of those manacles. Remember how you chained me up with them, after I came back from Hell?"

"Vividly," Buffy nodded, as the two star-crossed lovers kept going.

"After Dawn goes off to college, maybe we could play around with them one day," Angel joked feebly.

"Not the time, honey. Besides, don't you have other priorities? Namely, putting an engagement ring on my finger?" Buffy replied.

"Yeah, I do. Dawn was very excited about the idea of a wedding, by the way."

"Oh, I bet she was..."

Suddenly Buffy's keen hearing caught an almost-inaudible click, and it was only her lightning-fast Slayer speed which allowed her to drag Angel out of the jaws of certain death as an automated machine gun set up on a tripod began to open fire.

The hailstorm of bullets hit the ground all around the intrepid duo, chewing up the carpet and spitting up the wood underneath. The deadly assault seemed to last forever, even though it was only for thirty seconds at most; and when it was over, Buffy found herself on top of her boyfriend, who was cursing madly.

"One got me in my left leg, I can feel the bullet in there," the bleeding Angel complained in between all the f-words.

Buffy took off her coat and began to tear it into strips to bind the wound. "I should take you back to the others-"

"Hey, I'm coming with you!" Angel proclaimed, even as he winced at how hard Buffy's bandage was being applied.

"No, you're not," the Slayer told him sternly. "You're wounded, and you're no use to me like this. Either stay here, Angel, or go join the others outside if you can walk. Can you walk?"

"Not – quite. Not without help," the ex-vampire grunted painfully, after trying and failing to stand up.

"Damn it, you got hit in the right leg too?" Buffy cursed as she attended to that wound as well. "Okay, that one's not too bad. I'll call one of the others to come and get you, and keep looking for Cordelia myself."

Angel didn't look too happy with that plan as Buffy brought out her cell phone, but there was little he could do about it now.

* * *

><p><strong>The roof of Angel's mansion, Sunnydale<strong>

**A short while later**

"Hey, look who's here at last!" Warren crowed at Buffy, as she came through the door leading up to the roof. "Seriously, it feels like I've been waiting here forever for you to join us!"

"Well, I couldn't help jumping through all the hoops you'd set up in order for me to get here. I mean c'mon, a Voynok demon? They have nine lives!" Buffy said in exasperation, annoyed over how many times she'd had to kill the same creature over and over again. She then marched forward towards the assassin and his kidnap victim.

"Mmmmph!" Cordelia tried to say something through her gag, looking anxious.

"Yeah, I know, but you can relax; the cavalry's here. Don't worry, Cordelia, I'll have you out of here in a jiffy," the Chosen One promised her former classmate, putting aside the bad feelings for now.

"Will you now?" Warren asked Buffy merrily. "Well, this oughta be interesting."

"How do you figure that?" the Summers woman drawled.

Warren just looked at his watch. "Three, two, one...okay, that should do it!" Mears then put away his gun, much to the Slayer's amazement. "Now, the fun can actually begin!"

"Yeah. That it will." Buffy hauled back and delivered a punch that should have sent Warren flying off the roof. Instead, it just rocked his head back a little, before Warren smirked and punched her back. The blow sent Buffy tumbling to the ground, her nose bleeding profusely.

"Confused?" Warren asked the prone Slayer, who looked as if she couldn't believe what was happening. "Well, you always did underestimate me. And you always did take your Slayer super-powers for granted. Sure, back on your eighteenth birthday you got a bit of a culture shock; but ever since then? It's been repress, suppress and denial." He gave the fallen Slayer a vicious kick that made her scream in pain.

"Yeah, you guessed it; my very own version of the Council's Cruciamentum drug. Airborne, of course, through the vents over there. Super fast-acting too; I paid a freaking fortune for Wolfram & Hart's R&D department to come up with it, but it was worth every penny. Because now, at long last, I am going to beat you to death with my bare hands," Warren promised her, an ugly, feral look on the assassin's face as he reached down to grab Buffy by the neck.

"HEY!"

In a flash, Warren had his gun out and pointing at Xander, who had just come out of the rooftop door. Mears seemingly ignored Tim, who immediately raced over to untie Cordelia, and said, "Hello, Mr. Harris. I've been expecting you, even if I wasn't expecting the concentration camp survivor look."

( _Damn it, does EVERYBODY have to comment about what I look like nowadays?_ ) "Whatever. Pretty sure you weren't expecting me to have disarmed that bomb you set up near the basement, though," Xander replied, coming forward and aiming at Warren with his own pistol.

"You actually found that? Good for you. And a Ruger P95? Everyone says it's cost-effective, but you ask me, it's got the world's worst mag release – and it's not all that accurate, either. Seriously, you came after me with a ladies pistol?" Warren asked in amusement.

"It can still put your ass six feet under, where no one will ever find you."

Warren lost the smirk, glancing at Buffy; who by this point had gotten up and joined the former Slayerette. ( _Well, this is no good. Change of plans required._ )

Backing away slowly, Mears waited for an opportunity...

Which came in the form of Cordelia, as soon as Tim had loosened her bonds and removed her gag. "GOD DAMN IT, I HATE BEING KIDNAPPED!"

The young woman's outburst was understandable, but it was also a distraction the good guys simply did not need, as Warren opened fire – forcing Xander to dive to his right, as Buffy did likewise. Mears then whirled around and drew a bead on Tim...

...before he mercilessly shot the informant dead.

"NOOOOO! TIMMY!" Cordelia screamed in horror at the brutal murder of her cousin; someone who had been marked for death the moment Warren had learned that he was still alive. ( _Oh God, oh no, what just..._ )

By this point Warren and Xander were aiming at each other all over again, like two spies in a James Bond movie as Buffy limped over to help Cordelia fully get loose; the Slayer cursing her inability to do anything except act as a damsel in distress, until the airborne drug wore off. ( _Whichever creep came up with this thing, they really need me to kick their ass for it!_ )

Xander said calmly, "So what now?"

"Put the gun down, and I'll let you live," Warren promised.

"I've got a better idea. We continue our little stand-off, until Buffy gets her Slayer abilities back," Xander counter-proposed.

"That'll take a while. And I don't plan on hanging around that long," Warren shook his head. "Things to do, people to kill. You know how it is."

"Not really. You know, it's guys like you who give the human race a bad name," Xander observed.

"What do you care? You don't even live in this dimension anymore," Warren riposted.

"Changed my mind about that, actually. I'm not going anywhere now."

"Well, personally, I think you just might be," Warren said, as he pressed a button on his belt; and the man's coat retreated into a compartment between his shoulder blades, to reveal his rocket jet-pack and the suicide bomber vest he was wearing. "All three of you, as a matter of fact."

"Warren, you're NUTS!" Buffy shouted, as she stared at the explosives in sheer horror.

"No. Just a very sore loser, Betty, if things don't go my way."

Xander knew things had just gotten very dicey, and unfortunately, he no longer had that fragment of the Oracle to help him win like last time. He said, "I thought you evil assassins didn't go in for the whole martyr thing?"

"We don't; this is purely what I consider a hard-ball negotiation stance. Now, Harris, either you put the gun down so that I can finally kill the Slayer – or all of you are gonna be taken out right here, right now," Warren said grimly. "Including your woman, chump."

Xander could tell that Mears was serious. He also knew that if he did put the gun down, Warren would kill them all anyway; Buffy would only be the first to die. ( _God damn it..._ )

"Hey, don't call me 'his woman', you chauvinistic twerp! I'm not even sure where Xander and I stand right now," Cordelia said crossly, getting up from alongside Tim's corpse and somehow putting the murder aside for the moment. She had missed out on most of the previous conversation due to her grief and pain, but not that part.

"Hey, Cordy? Just so you know, I've been doing some soul-searching lately. And if you'd do me the honor of officially becoming my girlfriend, you'd make me the happiest man alive," Xander told her, still aiming the gun at Warren but now moving off to the side.

"Well, duh! Of course I would!" Cordelia said, unconsciously reverting to old high school habits as a smidgin of happiness crept back into her heart. "All right, fine; we're totally back together again. So remind me to go clothes shopping with you at some point, on account of those shoes don't really go with that shirt!"

"Will you SHUT UP, you brainless bimbo?" Warren growled at her, beginning to lose his cool despite all the Order's training. "Last chance, Harris. Gun. Down. NOW!"

At that moment, Xander decided to put his contingency plan into effect. He didn't want to do it, but then there was no other option in order to make sure both Cordelia and Erica (and Buffy) lived. ( _Damn. Well, no point trying to put it off any longer. _)

"Fine! Okay, you win, whatever," Xander said, carefully moving into position. "And hey, Cordy? For what it's worth, I really do wish we could have spent the rest of our lives together."

"What?" both Buffy and Cordelia said in confusion, before Harris threw the gun towards Warren's face and started running.

Xander had to time it perfectly, but he nonetheless managed to charge forward as Warren ducked underneath the Ruger and then Harris grabbed the Tarakan assassin. Never ceasing to move, Xander headed for the nearby ledge as Mears stumbled backwards, struggling to first shoot his assailant and then shoot up into the sky with the jet-pack.

"Xander, NOOOOO!" Cordelia screamed twice in as many minutes, as the two men plunged off the roof towards certain death below.

* * *

><p><strong>Mid-air outside Angel's mansion, Sunnydale<strong>

**A few seconds later**

Xander and Warren fell.

The assassin was screaming, even though Harris couldn't make out what Mears was saying. Xander tried to scream back at him, but he couldn't. There was no capacity within him to do so – what with having to concentrate on preventing the evil killer from flying off, or detonating the explosives strapped to his chest.

Gravity was going to be the ultimate winner as far as he was concerned, Harris was pretty sure of that. The ground was rushing up to meet him at roughly thirty-two feet per second per second, his speed accelerating with every passing moment. He was going to die, very painfully.

Oddly, Xander had no regrets save two. The first was that his friends in Pylea would probably never know what had happened to him. The second was that he wasn't going to be there to watch his daughter grow up, and grow old with Erica's mother. During one particular millisecond, Harris hoped that Cordy would eventually find someone else; a good man who would be a decent stepfather to his little girl, and who would treat them both with kindness and love.

Just then, two things happened. Warren broke free, and Xander's eyes began to glow white. And then, because of Harry Doyle's secret farewell gift in the world of dreams, white light erupted out of every pore of Xander's body, the corporeal vessel starting to shine like a human-shaped supernova.

Just before he could push the button to ignite the rocket pack Warren vanished, consumed by the cleansing power of the white light. There was nothing but ashes afterwards that scattered, unnoticed, to the four winds.

The intensity of the light increased until it was impossible to look at anymore, both from above and below. The Scooby Gang had to avert their eyes, and by the time the light had gone and Buffy and Cordelia ran down from the roof, everyone had gathered around Xander's body; which was laying prone on the grass.

"Is, is he dead?" Dawn asked in a scared little girl voice, staring at her former crush in both wonder and fear.

"I don't know, I-I didn't see him land," Giles said, his head still feeling sore from having been knocked out cold recently.

"Me neither," Angel said, who was being supported by Willow and Tara.

"Angel? We really ought to get you to a hospital," Willow said worriedly, seeing Buffy's makeshift bandages growing very wet and very red.

"Not yet. Not 'til I'm sure Buffy's okay," Angel said defiantly.

Right on cue, the Slayer and the fiction writer came charging out the front door. Buffy headed straight for her boyfriend, frantically checking his wounds; while Cordelia headed for her own man, dreading what she'd find.

"XANDER? Xander!" Ms. Chase screamed frantically, yelling his name and slapping him hard across the face. ( _Oh God, no, he can't be dead, please, he can't be..._ )

"Ow! And hey, what's all the yelling about?" Xander sat up and rubbed his eyes with one hand, before the other rubbed the cheek which Cordelia had slapped. "Geez, you'd think someone just died or something..."

Cordelia instantly slapped him again, this time out of sheer relief before they melted together in a long, wet and soul-searing kiss.

To Be Concluded...


	17. Hello Tomorrow

See Chapter One for disclaimer and details. Welcome, everybody, to the final chapter of the story! Yes, it's time to wrap this one up and move on to different projects, but before I give you the last segment of 'Shattered' I'd just like to thank my beta readers Nodakskip, Greywizard and Mr. Mysterious for all their help and encouragement in getting this fic finished; there have been times where I was tempted to give up and completely abandon the idea, but they kept me going with their ideas and feedback. And I'd also like to thank everybody has reviewed the story and likewise told me what they think of it! My apologies if I miss anyone, but I'd like to extend a heartfelt thanks to (in order of appearance):

Alkeni, Chi Vayne, iota0000, RobC, Fayari, Bobboky, Quathis, red-jacobson, Wonderbee31, Memory King, Ken, fasdfsd, paranoidbychoice, Eromancer, Dick Rash, SlyAddiction, Get-Lost, He Who Rules With an Iron Hoof, Darksnider05, Brenda, ftfchris, Shinigami Of Nightmares, and Jarvey.

So without further ado, I bid you farewell – and now, let's get on with why you all came here...

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seventeen: Hello Tomorrow<strong>

**Somewhere on Hollywood Boulevard, Los Angeles**

**June, 2006**

The interior of the limousine headed for the Cinerama Dome, which was located near the corner of Sunset Boulevard and Vine Street, was filled with conversation.

So much had happened since the night Illyria had almost destroyed history, in order to recreate it in her own demonic image, that it was almost impossible to know where to begin to describe everything that had taken place. The lives of almost everyone even remotely associated with either the Scooby Gang or the Fang Gang had changed a great deal.

For example, Buffy had taken Angel to the hospital after Xander had woken up outside the mansion, and the next day those two had become officially engaged.

Xander had quietly made arrangements for Tim's funeral, and a grieving Cordelia had discovered that her cousin had left her almost everything in his will; including the house on Parkview Crescent. Mr. Chase had subsequently been buried with his reputation intact, thanks to Xander honoring his promise to say nothing to anyone about Tim's connection to the Order of Taraka.

After Harry's funeral in LA, Spike had brought William to Sunnydale, whereupon the male teenager had become smitten with Dawn – and he had eventually killed Sahjhan there as well, around the time Dawn's friends Kit and Carlos had become a romantic couple.

Erica Chase had eventually been born, which had provided Willow and Tara with the notion that adopting a child of their own one day might not be the worst idea imaginable.

Giles had ceased constantly ending up unconscious – apart from on the Slayer's wedding day, which otherwise went off without a hitch and which had resulted in Rupert and Xander finally settling their differences. Oddly, the warlock named Rack had decided that the climate would be more congenial for him in San Francisco, and he had left town by that point. Whether that was his own decision or due to something else, none of his foolish magic-addicted customers ever found out.

In New York, Anya had made obscene amounts of money before eventually acquiring a job with the International Monetary Fund. In a higher dimension, the Power that would have become known as Jasmine had been safely imprisoned for all eternity. And in Pylea, the tree calling itself the Oracle was no longer such an annoyingly smug pain in the butt.

Curiously, just as Xander had heard it in one of Sunnydale's future time zones, Groo and Fred had eventually showed up in the City of Angels after the Covenant of Trombli had finally been overthrown in that demon dimension. The Groosalugg had taken over from Spike, who had relocated to Sunnydale to be near William and Dawn, and the Pylean half-breed had soon entered into a relationship with Nina. Fred had likewise become an item with Wesley, as Angel Investigations continued to keep the world safe from the apocalypse.

Elsewhere in LA Cordelia's agent, Oliver, had started to take on very high-profile clients. Gavin Park and his firm were finding new ways to cause trouble for the good guys. Aura had finally become a world-famous supermodel. And Oz had met a nice girl working at one of Devon's rehab clinics, whom he was now dating; much to Veruca's displeasure.

Most important of all, though, was the fact that the movie version of Cordelia's _Cassandra_ book was finally premiering in Hollywood tonight.

"I still think we should have brought Erica with us," Cordelia said fretfully, missing her little girl terribly. The former actress was wearing a stunning red dress that had been specially designed for her, and Ms. Chase definitely wasn't going to look out of place amongst Hollywood's most beautiful people this evening.

"Come on, Cordy; she's barely eighteen months old. Erica would have spent most of the night either crying or screaming her lungs out, and you know it! She's much better off staying with Lupe this evening," Xander said to his fiancée with a soft smile. He was no longer the way-too-skinny individual who had washed ashore on the beach two years ago – and Harris was wearing a traditional black bow tie monkey suit for this special occasion, despite how uncomfortable such clothes made him feel.

Because Xander knew just how important tonight was to Cordelia, and he was determined to support her no matter what.

"Oh, God, we're almost there," Cordy started to panic. "How's my hair?"

"Perfect, as always," Xander deadpanned.

"Well, well, what if the critics say the movie sucks? And what if they say it's all my fault, after they find out how much the director consulted me during the filming? What if the fans hate how some things in the movie aren't the same as they are in the book? What if-" Cordelia had almost entered into hysterics by now.

Xander cut her off with a long and passionate kiss, just like the one from two years ago outside Angel's mansion. Then he said, "Cordy, listen to me. One, tonight's premiere is gonna go just fine; you know how the critics loved that five-minute teaser the studio put out, and all the positive reviews it got. Two, even if the movie does tank – which I'm pretty sure it won't – that's not gonna affect book sales much, if any. And three, you might wanna fix your lipstick before all the paparazzi get a look at you, 'cause I kinda smudged it a lot just now."

Giving him a good-natured glare, Cordelia proceeded to fix her make-up before saying, "Hey, Xander? You mind if I ask you something?"

Harris shrugged. "Sure, go ahead."

"I never asked you this before, but – what do YOU think of the movie? And the book I wrote?" Cordelia asked rather nervously.

Xander took his time to think about it. He then replied, "You put together a story where, instead of the main character being a helpless victim, on account of she was a girl – she was a kick-ass superhero, instead. It reminded me of what life in Sunnydale was like when I was a teenager, and how I felt when I learned that heroes and monsters really did exist in this world. And sure, not everyone will like it – betcha the Council types in England will absolutely hate it! – but I think a lot of kids and adults will go totally nuts over this movie. Especially members of the Y chromosome club – hey, you can't deny how Jessica Alba is one smokin' hot babe..."

Cordy scowled and smacked him on the arm, before her mood lightened a bit. "Oh, I almost forgot! I got an email from Dawn today."

"Yeah? How's she doing?"

"Enjoying her summer vacation with William. She wished us good luck with the premiere tonight, and she told me that Buffy and Angel are thinking of starting a family. Which is of the good, because, let's face it; neither of them are getting any younger..." Cordelia rolled her eyes. Even though she and the Chosen One still weren't exactly best friends, after that incident on the roof with Warren they were no longer bitter enemies, either.

"Really? Huh. Guess Joy might be showing up soon, then," Xander mused.

Cordelia understood what he was talking about, because out of all the six billion human souls on the planet, she alone was the only other person who knew what had happened when Illyria had inadvertently shattered the space-time continuum within Sunnydale. The Chase woman said, "You do realize that eventually, you're going to have to tell Buffy and Angel all about the Santa Claus incident, don't you?"

"Well, I've thought about it, ever since Slay-gal and I finally came to an understanding. Have you considered all the implications of that, though? What changing that particular event might mean," Xander said slowly. "Personally, I don't like the odds of whether Buffy and Angel will end up splitsville after that Christmas, if Santa's greeted with a Slayer ass-whuppin' instead of encountering Joy."

"And what if their daughter gets hurt or killed that night, due to that whole butterfly effect thing?" Cordelia demanded. "You think it's worth risking Joy's life that way?"

"No, of course not," Xander sighed. "Look, I figure we should hold off on that until after Joy is born, at least. Okay? Maybe 'til after Faith is back, too."

With a look of distaste clearly visible upon her face, Cordelia asked, "You think she'll turn up again anytime soon?"

"I'd say not for a few more years," Xander shrugged. "So, did Dawn say anything else in her email?"

"Yeah, but do you really want to hear details regarding her and William's sex life?" Cordy asked with an upraised eyebrow.

"No, thanks," Harris immediately shook his head. "Anything to do with that, honey, I definitely don't wanna know!"

"Wimp," Cordelia smirked at him. "Come on, Xander – you know that eventually, she's gonna marry William and have three kids with the guy! Or odds are, anyway. And you also know all the effort I put into teaching Dawn how to calm that boy down, and turn him into a semi-normal human being! So, son of two vampires or otherwise, would it kill you to relax a little around William?"

"It's not that, sweetheart, it's just – I never actually met with Dawn that night," Xander exhaled, leaning back a little. "Her future is a complete mystery to me, apart from what little Buffy mentioned before I had to get going with all that Key energy. Same with Angel, I guess. Oz and Wes, not so much. Giles and Tara, I found out a lot more than I wanted to; and as for Willow, well – you know all about that..."

"So she would have ended up dead like me, if you hadn't killed that Illyria thing – AND that evil bastard who murdered Timmy. Who cares?" Cordelia demanded. "Willow and I are both alive here and now, aren't we? And aren't you the one who's always telling me that the future isn't set in stone, it can be whatever we decide to make it?"

( _I guess so. Especially now that Willow and I have pretty much mended fences, at long last,_ ) Xander thought before saying, "Yeah, you're right. It's just that I worry; I guess fatherhood kinda does that to you..."

"Speaking of which, what are your thoughts on what we should name our next kid?" Cordelia asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Our NEXT kid?" Xander demanded, eyes wide with shock and surprise. "Cordy, what the hell?"

"What? You want Erica not to have any brothers or sisters? To grow up an only child?" Cordelia demanded. "Because I don't want that, Xander. Listen, I'm not saying it has to happen anytime soon – but I do want another baby eventually, okay? I want Erica to have someone, the way Buffy has Dawn – the way I used to have Timmy – and preferably, without too much of an age gap!"

( _Here we go again. That thing about her biological clock ticking away, even though she's only twenty-five years old,_ ) Xander thought in annoyance. ( _Yeesh. We're not even married yet, and Cordy's already thinking about another rug rat? It's days like this I wonder whether I should have gotten a vasectomy... _)

"All right, fine. How about Tim if it's a boy?" Xander suggested. "'Cause I know you still miss the guy, like über-bad."

"Yeah, I do. Thank you, Xander," Cordelia said, giving him a big hug. "And if it's a girl?"

"Well, how about Harriet, or Harry? I mean, I know you never met her, but trust me; if it wasn't for that particular woman, neither of us would be here right now," Xander pointed out. "And it'd mean a lot to everyone who knew her, I'm sure."

Cordelia nodded slowly. "I guess so. All right, I'll think about it."

The driver then gave them a courtesy buzz over the intercom. "Looks like we're about to arrive. You ready?" Xander asked, rather glad for the change in subject.

Cordelia took a deep breath and exhaled, as the limousine came to a halt. "Ready when you are."

Opening the door, Xander got out and offered his arm for Cordelia to gracefully step out of the limo. Blinding flashes of light went off from all the various media photographers, as they recognized the special guest author who had been invited to the big event tonight. The novelist and former actress smiled for the cameras and briefly said a few words to her fans amongst the crowd, before she and her fiancé walked up the red carpet and went inside to see the film.

Once the theatre housed within that giant, white, geodesic dome went dark and the motion picture began, Xander and Cordelia briefly kissed again.

About two hours later, it was a happy ending for 'Cassandra' and 'Adrian' as well, as the critics contemplated what to write about the fantasy-action movie they'd mostly enjoyed watching.

One rather enterprising individual came up with, '_Cassandra The Cheerleading Demon Slayer_ contains a very clear message: hate will shatter your entire life, and love will drive you absolutely crazy. So to survive and stay sane – aim for somewhere in the middle, instead.'

At least Erica Chase-Harris and her siblings would never have to worry about money in the future.

THE END


End file.
